In the Absence of Memory
by Yih
Summary: [COMPLETE ch.10 is the last one.] LVxHP.Voldemort has learned of the Prophecy and the only way to avert it is to bond Harry to him. What better way than an Ancient Dark Curse that renders the caster the dominant power?
1. Kidnapping

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
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I wake up  
I don't know who I am  
It's all lost  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
Not anymore, it's gone  
Gone away  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
Attempting to get there  
Where is there?  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
Wish I could remember  
But I don't  
The memories are gone  
  
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1: Kidnapping (June 27, 2003 to June 30, 2003)  
  
He knew the prophecy; he knew there was only one way to prevent it from happening. This was the only way and it was an ancient dark bonding curse that had been used by lovers in the most desperate of situations to prevent their beloved ones from leaving them. He had heard about the existence of such a spell, but it had taken him years to find a suitable one. Once he'd found the spell, he'd taken the diligence to make sure that it was translated from its archaic language accurately.  
  
The version of the bonding spell that had been uncovered had two methods of establishing the bond, both means giving the spell-caster the dominant position in the relationship. It was this dominance when exerted that prevented the bonded from ever leaving. That was precisely what he'd been looking for. The only thing he had left was to decide if he wanted the bonding to be physical or spiritual. Blood was required for the former, while the latter involved a transfer of life. There was no question after he learned of the additional benefits of a spiritual bonding which he was going to undergo.  
  
The transfer of life was of no risk to him, and it gave him the additional benefit of being able to draw Harry's magical essence, his power. The draining of Harry's power would give him the necessary boost to try one of the Forbidden spells. Forbidden because no living wizard had enough magic to attempt them anymore. But sucking Harry Potter dry would combine the powers of two of the strongest wizards in existence, though most of Harry's remarkable abilities had been taken from him when the reflected Avada Kedavra Curse had nearly killed him.  
  
If he succeeded in casting the Forbidden spell, then he'd be back to the prime of his life physically. Even though he didn't necessarily mind his grotesque outer form if it meant more power, more ability--- however, he had discovered that this disgusting body did nothing to increase his magical strength Once he had learned this, it hadn't taken him long to find a spell to reverse it. Unfortunately it had been a Forbidden spell, a spell he could never cast even at full strength. Luckily this dark bonding curse had become an unexpected windfall.  
  
Of course, with spells that were decidedly dark there were many details that had to be precise. This particular bonding spell was exactly what he wanted, and it had been to his immense relief that his situation fit the circumstances needed. The bonding curse was indeed a curse against lovers that were bonded. Bonded lovers weren't suppose to break apart, but somehow one of them had tried a longtime ago. A foolish thing to do when the lover in question was a very powerful dark wizard.  
  
The poor girl had been cursed to be twice bonded and always trapped. She had helped the dark wizard to develop even more powerful black magic, since he had drained her rather powerful magical energy. An interesting side loop was that the required bond didn't necessarily have to be a lover's bond, though it had been made for the purposes of spurned bonded lovers. Voldemort had smiled when he read the last line that any bond would do, wrote the descendant of the creator of the dark bonded curse. Any bond would do like a bond caused by an Avada Kedavra Curse gone awry.  
  
The actual transfer of life had an interesting side effect, the dark wizard in question had decided that memories were the sum of a person's life so he'd made the bond rely on transporting the memories of the inflicted to the inflictor. It was that or the person's soul, and a person without a soul was as good as a dummy. But the total erasure of Harry Potter's memories was even better than Voldemort had hoped for. A clean slate in which to draw a vast reserve of magical enemy for his arch nemesis. What sweet justice!  
  
All he needed now was the boy in question. The sacred task of retrieving the boy he'd given to his most trusted and most powerful Death Eaters, Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy. With Bella, he could trust her to deliver the boy even at the cost of her life especially with the foolish episode of before that had let the boy slip away from him. That costly error had delayed him, vastly hindered the movement for two years but now it was about to be righted and Harry was going to help him like he had once before.  
  
While he didn't trust Lucius with his life like he did Bella, he had to admit that Malfoy had his uses and was one of his stronger Death Eaters, especially when he'd discovered Severus Snape's treachery. Too bad Dumbledore had grown fond of his spy and kept him sequestered within the protection of Hogwarts, but no matter once he had Harry under his domination he'd be sure to deal out his punishment. But he had to be careful, Severus was still the best Potions Master alive and had at one point been loyal to him. Severus indeed still had his uses, even if it meant keeping him locked up 24 hours a day as a Potion-making machine.  
  
Yes, it was going to be a distinct pleasure to have two strong wizards like Harry Potter and Severus Snape having no choice but to submit to him. He still had to wait, but it wasn't going to be long. It had taken two years of planning, two years of researching, two years of waiting to actually have the necessary number of Death Eaters to make the assault possible. Losing all but Bella to Azkaban had taken him a year to rectify. Many had been lost in the escape, the few that remained were his strongest--- the most capable.  
  
"You know what I want you to do," Voldemort told them in a commanding yet harsh tone. He was still upset with Bella for delaying the moment and with Lucius for making it harder to uncover the prophecy. "You'd best not fail."  
  
Both Lucius and Bella tilted their heads down to their Master with their utmost obedience. They knew better to cross him after the failure that had resulted in a great decline in their numbers not to mention the stall in his plans. When they received the dismissive signal that indicated the anti-apparation wards had been lifted, they quickly apparated to the designated place where the rest of the Death Eaters were gathering.  
  
There was a huge risk in this monumental undertaking, but the gains that could be gained from this risk were well worth it. To have Harry Potter eliminated as a potential enemy and to be able to utilize the strongest wizard born since his own birth as a power source was too good of a chance to miss up on. No, there was too much to be gained from this to let it wait when he had the dark bonding curse fully translated and ready to use. He'd waited too long, much too long.  
  
All this planning was going to be put into use and there was no better time to strike than now. Everything was relatively quiet, he'd let the summer after Harry's graduation be quite normal. There was the occasional raid, but nothing momentous to the point of causing any undue tension. Just enough not to cause suspicion of something more radical in the wings, it had been a brilliant plan... an ingenious idea. Now all that was left was for it to be carried out.  
  
His hopes wrested in the hands of Bella and Lucius, they would not fail him if they valued their lives. No, they would not dare to fall disappoint him when his hopes were so high for them. If they did what he asked of them, they would be rewarded greatly beyond their wildest dreams. He had once promised Bella in front of all the Death Eaters such a gift but her dreadful failure had made him angry with his most loyal Death Eater. If she succeeded now, all would be forgiven. She was, after all, his most devout Death Eater.  
  
~  
  
Everything was in place, the Death Eaters that had remained about the atrocity of Azkaban were all standing before Bella and Lucius with deferential expressions. There was no question who was their Dark Lord's favorite Death Eater, it was Bellatrix Lestrange; the most powerful was undoubtedly, Lucius Malfoy. The only thing that relieved the rest of the Death Eaters were that those two weren't the best of friends, in fact it was well known that they despised each other. Before Bella had escaped from Azkaban with the aid of Voldemort two years ago, Lucius had been Voldemort's favored one.  
  
He was still more powerful, only because the years wasted in Azkaban had wore away on Bella. It had stripped her of her beauty and most of her awful power. She'd been a fearsome witch, the most powerful Dark Witch he'd known of. If she hadn't been, she never would have been in the Inner Circle. To this day, she was the only witch within the Death Eater ranks. But now she was only a shadow of her former self, a thing he took great pleasure in. It meant that he still somewhat had the upper hand on her.  
  
It was also to his good luck that Bella's weak husband, weak compared to her, had succumbed to the Dementors and had lost his mind. Lestrange had been weaker than Bella, but he was more than a match for Lucius as much as he hated to admit it. The two of them had been the Dark Lord's darlings. His two favorites, they'd accompanied Voldemort everywhere and the three of them together had been unstoppable until Voldemort had been taken down by a wayward Killing Curse. Even Dumbledore didn't stand a chance if the Lestranges stood with Voldemort.  
  
At one time it hadn't hurt that his wife had been her younger sister. Narcissa had always been a weak spot with Bella, which had fortunately made the witch be civil to him. But now that Narcissa was dead, Bella had no reason to try to be polite to him any longer of Narcissa's sake. He was sure that she blamed him, even if it was really Draco's fault. He had foolishly stepped in front of a curse that Lucius knew the counter for, and before he could do anything his equally foolish wife had stepped to block the curse from Draco. The curse shouldn't have killed, it really shouldn't have but Narcissa had never been a strong witch, not like Bella.  
  
"This is not the time," Bella hissed with warning, "to have your mind wander, Malfoy."  
  
He narrowed his silvery blue eyes into malicious slits. The vapid bitch. "I never thought," he sneered back, "that it was a crime to think of the best way to put our Dark Lord's plans into motion. Excuse me for trying to help him succeed."  
  
Bella's fathomless pits for eyes stared deeply into him as if trying to discern if he was telling the truth or not. She had this eerie way of gazing into him that unnerved him, not that he would ever let her know that. Her beauty had been a terrible thing, she had seemed like a siren then but now it was even more so with her wasted looks. "You have no need to do any thinking," she snarled in response. "We do what the Dark Lord tells us to do."  
  
Definitely a bitch. Voldemort's bitch. He suppressed the urge to spat that particular thought at her face, instead he turned to face the Death Eaters that had finished portkeying to the site. No one besides him and Bella knew the location, it was safer that way. Once he did a quick head count to assure that they were all there, he began to tell them what they all knew had been coming, "It happens tonight. It's Potter's eighteenth birthday, he'll be celebrating with a small group of friends at Hogsmeade."  
  
She didn't trust Lucius, but she had no choice but to trust him. The Dark Lord had already told her that they needed Lucius with them, that she had to try to be civil to the upstart Malfoy. Yes, his name might be as old and as prestigious as her own venerable married and maiden name, Lestrange and Black, but his family hadn't dabbled to the degree in the Dark Arts like hers had. Malfoy's mansion had a light feeling compared to the noble and most ancient House of Black. The Black family home was how a Dark Wizard house should be like, foreboding and ominous not the inviting elegance of the Malfoy residence.  
  
"We will strike in the midst of this party when they are all incapacitated with alcohol," Lucius continued smoothly, despite the haunting way Bella was glancing at him. "Bellatrix has seen fit to arrange a special surprise for them in their drinks. It should make it very easy to capture Potter. This has been two years in the making and we will not fail. We will succeed and then everyone will know that it is the Dark Lord who is the power, no one else."  
  
She didn't want to admit it, but Lucius did have this irrefutable charisma about him that inspired people to follow him. He had more than his fair share of supporters amidst the Death Eaters. But she was privy to more of Voldemort's secrets than he was, that she comforted herself with. Once he regained his beauty, she was sure that no one would even give Lucius a second look. There'd been a reason so many had followed her Dark Lord, it was because of his undeniable presence and power.  
  
"The party is to take place at Hog's Head. You know where that is. Invisibility potions have been arranged for this moment. They won't work as well as they would if they were at their full potent strength, but it will keep our presence from going undetected for at least an hour," Lucius declared. "Once you've taken the potion, apparate there at once and you are all informed of the signal?" All the Death Eaters in the room nodded. "Then let it begin."  
  
Lucius gestured for them to walk up to them, where Bella handed out the carefully rationed potion. It wasn't likely they were going to get anymore for a while, not while Severus was hiding away at Hogwarts. The traitorous bastard, she thought venomously, but at least he had his uses. Despite having made this particular potion a year ago, it was still very potent. Potent enough to be able to deliver this perfect plan to kidnap Harry Potter and bring him back to their Lord and Master. Who knew the treacherous creature would prove so very helpful?  
  
"Go," she whispered harshly at the wizard she'd given the first draught to. He apparated at her command and she let a tiny smile turn up the corners of her thin lips. It had begun, the Dark Lord's third rising, final rising- -- into a new age of Darkness.  
  
~  
  
Hog's Head was surrounded around the perimeter by twenty odd Death Eaters. The hour of invisibility gave them plenty of time to discern that they were outnumbered about two to one with those inside. The vast majority of those at the birthday celebration were the Weasleys which made up about one out of every four there. Quite a few Professors were there including Severus Snape, the despicable turncoat, a delightful addition that Bella was going to take advantage of. What alarmed them was that Dumbledore was also there. They hadn't planned on that.  
  
But they had successfully within the hour, contaminated the drink supply with one of Severus's own handy tasteless poisons. Not only that, they had set up anti-apparation wards and a powerful shield that repelled anyone that might be nearby from helping the unfortunate souls within. Their plan had been brilliant, yet it could fail. The Professors weren't a problem. Lucius and Bella were more than a match for Snape, McGonagall, and Flitwick. The Headmaster was a different story. Voldemort had at full strength had found difficulty with Dumbledore.  
  
They only had to hope that the slow acting poison deterred Dumbledore enough that they could get the boy within their grasp and portkey him out of there. Bella had already told Lucius in whispered urgency that it'd be a great idea if they could also bring Snape as well. Lucius had just shrugged and told her that he'd try to get Snape with his portkey only if Bella succeeded in getting Harry Potter with hers. If she failed, he'd resort to using his to secure the Boy Who Lived for their Master himself.  
  
"It's time," she hissed at him, gesturing frantically to the Death Eaters near them that were going to breach into the tavern. Two were to stay outside to keep the shielding wards up and to take down the anti-apparation wards when it was time for them to make their retreat. Their best chance was to take the partygoers by surprise. Astonish the bloody hell out of them. "Let's go."  
  
She didn't have to tell him twice, they rushed into Hog's Head their wands drawn and immediately began to throw dark curses at the nearest occupants. No Killing Curses were used, that curse took too much energy to cast and Cruciatus was just as effective at impeding an enemy. The Death Eaters had managed to halt half of the occupants in the room, but those were mainly the younger people. A few Death Eaters got struck with stupefying spells, others got blocked with the impediment spell. But luckily the poison had slowed their reaction time enough that Dumbledore failed to react in enough time to protect his golden boy with a shielding charm.  
  
Amidst the utter chaos, Lucius saw Severus standing in front of Harry, trying valiantly to protect the boy with his own body. While Dumbledore was trying to deal with protecting some muggles behind him, Lucius cried out, "Expelliarmus!" He had used the full force of all his power behind the spell, and it was to his luck that Severus and Harry had been distracted by Avery and Nott. Both of them felt their wands pulled from their grasp, landing in Lucius's outstretched hand.  
  
Bella saw the opportunity and launched herself at the Boy Who Lived, holding him by the neck and immediately activated the portkey that would transport them to Malfoy mansion. Harry struggled, clawing at her face viciously but it was to no avail as the portkey tugged at them, pulling them into the vortex. When Lucius was sure that Bella was gone with the Potter boy, he took out his own portkey and grabbed Severus by the length of his dark greasy hair. It took a moment, long enough for him to scream at the rest of the Death Eaters to get the hell out of there!  
  
Thankfully, he and once friend Severus were pulled to his home where they were violently deposited in front of a highly pleased Dark Lord. It was then that Lucius saw that the Boy Who Lived was writhing under the Cruciatus Curses that from the gleam in Bella's eyes must have been placed on by her. Her dark eyes again sent a dark shiver down his spine and out of the corner of his eye he saw Voldemort point his wand at Severus. "Crucio!"  
  
Severus crumbled to the ground, not crying out in pain much like his devoted pupil Harry. Both of them refused to scream in pain, instead their mouth opened up in silent cries of the horrendous torture. But they refused to vocalize it, even if they were tossing and turning on the ground, their faces contorted with their anguish. It was a relief to Lucius that their was no mad glimmer in the Dark Lord's eyes that shone in Bella's. This was done to show his power, his control over two very powerful wizards. When Voldemort decided they had been under the dark curse long enough, he called out the counter, "Finite Incantatum."  
  
Both Harry and Severus crumbled to the ground as if they had no more energy in the world. Lucius heard Bella's complaint that they ought to be punished more severely, especially the nasty traitor but Voldemort ignored her. Instead, he commanded Lucius to pull their heads up, which Lucius did as told. He grabbed Potter by his tousled locks and Snape by his greasy mane, pulling them by their hair to lift their faces up to his Dark Lord. By this time, the Death Eaters that had managed to escape had apparated into the room.  
  
"Goyle, take the traitor to another room, he doesn't deserve to know what I'm going to do with Harry Potter," Voldemort addressed in a deliberately cold voice. The elder Goyle quickly obeyed, having to body bind the Potions Master in spite of his weaken state as he'd struggle to prevent being taken away. Even if he didn't like the boy too much, Potter was still his student and he didn't want to leave him at the mercy of Voldemort. He didn't have much choice when he was dragged violently away, with Harry giving Severus pleading looks to just go with Goyle.  
  
When Severus had been taken away, Voldemort focused his crimson eyes on his most despised enemy. The boy had grown quite a bit, he was no longer a child anymore--- instead he was a gorgeous young man. Yes, it was startling how much staring at Harry Potter reminded him of the way he use to look. The only thing that was different was the green eyes and the untidy hair. After that, everything was remarkably similar. The dark hair, the golden skin, the lush lips, the straight nose, the slender yet muscular body. He was pleased though to find that Potter wasn't as tall as he was, standing at under six feet.  
  
It was with disgust that he remembered his own decrepit, skeleton-like form. But it wasn't going to be like this very much longer, he was going to use this beautiful young man and strip him of his power, make him submissive to him and... and regain his lost beauty. The grin that appeared on his face he knew was ghastly, but he couldn't help it. He'd been waiting for this for a very long time, and he wasn't a patient man. The time had come, oh yes indeed, the time to make Harry Potter his had come. It was going to be a glorious moment.  
  
It was time to bond his soul with the Boy Who Lived permanently.  
  
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Author's Note: No one in this story is going to be 'good' nor 'bad'. I will be delving very deeply into 'dark gray'. I find Bellatrix a fascinating new character especially in relation to Lord Voldemort. I hope to develop, Voldemort, Bellatrix, Lucius, Harry, and Severus into very 'round'/'full' characters. The pairing will be as mentioned in the summary HP/LV or HP/LM. I am not certain at this point who I'm leaning for. I like both pairings immensely. There will be HP/SS and HP/DM friendship in this story.  
  
Questions: (1) Isn't Bellatrix simply marvelous? Thoughts on her? (2) How is Lucius? (3) Lord Voldemort? (4) Lastly, your taken on the dark bonding curse and the Forbidden spell? 


	2. Bonding

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
Thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, SERRA!  
  
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I wake up  
I don't know who I am  
It's all lost  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
Not anymore, it's gone  
Gone away  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
Attempting to get there  
Where is there?  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
Wish I could remember  
But I don't  
The memories are gone  
  
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2: Bonding (June 30, 2003 to July 4, 2003)  
  
The boy had been prepared for the bonding ritual by Lucius, while he didn't trust the man like he trusted Bella he had been the best choice for the job. While Bella hid her animosity well, she couldn't hide it well enough for Voldemort to place the boy into her care. She'd probably try to torture the boy somehow and that couldn't be allowed. The boy needed to be at full strength for the bond to be the most powerful it could be. The more powerful the bond, the more dominant his power over the boy would be, the more he could drain the magical essence out of the boy.  
  
It had been decided by him in the last minutes that the bonding would take place in front of the rest of the Death Eaters that were left. He wanted to make it clear and reassert to what was left of his minions that he had triumphed over the Boy Who Lived. It wouldn't hurt to show them what dark magic the bonding curse was and how powerful the wizard had to be to pull it off. No, it'd teach them and make them more aware of what a forceful Dark Lord he truly was. They seemed to be forgetting this as their numbers dwindle when they shouldn't.  
  
He narrowed his crimson eyes into deadly slits. So be it, they would know after this that he'd truly be the most powerful wizard on the face of the Earth. Nothing would stop him once he'd drained Harry Potter's magical essence for himself, and enjoy it immensely he would. Nothing would please him more than to know he'd have the powerful and the pleasure to suck the will and determination out of the resolutely stubborn Gryffindor. And it was almost time, almost time to make his arch nemesis energy his as well.  
  
His eyes filled with a wicked gleam when they rested on the blazing green fire he saw in Harry's fierce orbs. If Harry hadn't been in a full body bind, he had no doubt the boy would be raising bloody hell trying desperately to get out of here. No, it definitely wasn't like the golden boy of the Wizarding World to go down without a fight. It was a pity he wouldn't be able to let the boy loose, but he really did need all his energy conserved. The bonding was going to take a lot out of both of them, and most likely would almost kill the boy.  
  
But the reward of having complete domination and the ability to drain the magical energy from the Boy Who Lived was too good of a chance to pass up. No, he was going to go through with this. The positively calculating grin that spread across his face was beyond pleased. Taking the silver blade that Bella handed to him, he slit his wrist and grabbed the Potter boy by his unruly hair, pulling his head back and forcing his mouth open. He was giving the boy no choice but to swallow the blood.  
  
As the boy choked down his blood, he hissed out in parseltongue: "You will be mine to bend to mine own will. You will be mine to take what is yours. You will be mine for it is only me that you will remember. You will be mine until there is no more time. You will be mine, forever and eternally. You are mine, for always. You are mine 'til the end of days."  
  
So be it, the boy was his. He'd made his claim. The last thing that was left was a simple temporary soul removing potion where he'd bind the boy spiritually to him. It was a good thing that this potion wasn't that complicated, though he was well able to do some of the more difficult potions. It was surprising how simple this potion was for the elements it contained. But these things never did quite add up in the magical world.  
  
Once Bella had closed up his wound, he slashed the boy's throat and let the blood trickle into his potion like he had let the remainders of his blood ooze into the boy's potion. The Boy Who Lived needed to drink more of his blood so that he could assert his dominancy, but he also needed to take a bit of the boy's own blood since it was his physical essence. The blood combined with the soul removal potion would let him leave his body temporarily to exert his final force over the boy, the soul dominance.  
  
This was the most dangerous part since letting the spirit leave its physical form was always rather unsettling and unnatural. Only the strongest wizard dare try this, and many had failed ending up dead. But Voldemort was sure that Harry Potter was strong enough and he knew he was. He used his own wandless magic to seal the boy's cut and then forced the potion down the boy's throat. Once the boy swallowed his, he drank his potion.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. It was like he was being sucked away, and he had no choice but to go. Lucky for him, he would have felt lost if he had not placed the boy's blood into his potion. While it linked the boy to him physically, it also provided him the pathway to the boy's own wandering soul. The blood in the boy's potion worked the same way for him too as he was drawn to Voldemort. Yet, it was not exactly the same since it was clear that the curse was already in affect and the boy was submissive to him.  
  
His soul was the one that pulled the boy and crushed him into him so that the memories would flow faster with no distance between them. The first trickles of memories were pleasant. Then again, Voldemort had expected no less. The Boy Who Lived had to lead a charmed life, didn't he? A hero to the Wizarding World and having the perfect parents that showered loving adoration over their only child. His envy and jealousy burned.  
  
He didn't want to experience all these happy memories that drew his bitterness for what he could never have. But he had no choice; all the memories must be drained for Harry Potter to be bond to him body, mind, and soul. However, the happy memories ended abruptly when Harry was orphaned when he killed the powerful Potters. The crying Harry annoyed his soul as the baby whined for his dead parents. But even that scene wasn't the worst, no that was still an okay memory. Everything was all right until the foolish Dumbledore left the Boy Who Lived with his muggle relatives.  
  
At first it wasn't so bad. The Dursleys mainly ignored the baby Harry even when he cried piteously. It wasn't long before the baby learned to stop crying to be held like he had been before, since these muggles weren't going to. Voldemort was slightly sympathetic to baby Harry; he hadn't known the boy had been starved for affection, just like he'd been. But he thought that it was probably just because the muggle woman had a baby of her own to look after and adore. It'd change when the boy got older.  
  
Indeed, it did change. It was worse; it drew comparisons to the orphanage he grew up in. Harry, at the tender age of 4, was expected to cook breakfast for the family. The poor boy couldn't read yet he was expected to cook! And whenever the food was less than perfect, they'd hit the poor child. Voldemort remembered his beatings when he'd been too young to defend himself. They'd toughened him like they'd probably strengthened Harry to stand against him. He'd always wondered how a supposedly pampered child had the steel nerves to stand up to him. Now he knew.  
  
His admiration and his respect for Harry only grew as the boy grew older. The beatings worsened a bit, but he knew that physical abuse was nothing compared to the verbal assault that Harry received every waking moment of everyday. It was remarkable that the boy had any self esteem left after being insulted like he was. Yet, Harry had survived this and had been that much stronger for it.  
  
It was to his great relief when he saw the owl that came to Harry to inform him of his magical background, that he was a wizard. Watching Harry suffer reminded him of his own memories that he didn't want to remember. The relief turned into frustration that was similar Harry's own memory when the muggles refused to give Harry his Hogwarts letter. Never had he been more grateful to see the buffoon of a half giant, Hagrid, rescue Harry and spirit him off to Diagon Alley and guiding him to platform 9 ¾.  
  
From there, the memories were like watching a movie he'd already seen before. He recognized Harry's wonder, it had matched his own. He had to choke back hard at Harry becoming friends with the self righteous Weasley boy, but that was nothing compared to when he heard the Sorting Hat say Harry would do best in his old house--- Slytherin! That had been shocking, but understandable when he considered Harry's ability to survive and adapt. That was most definitely a Slytherin trait.  
  
The seven years spent at Hogwarts passed by like a familiar breeze, especially the last three years that he'd been resurrected and had kept his eye on the Boy Who Lived. The only thing that was different was seeing it from Harry's point of view instead of one of his inner spies. Like himself, Harry derived much of his remembered happiness from his days within the school walls. But he'd never had a Dark Lord that wanted to kill him in his Hogwarts days.  
  
However, he understood very well why Harry relished every minute even if he was constantly in danger. Here, he was at least treated like a person--- a living creature. Every summer he went back to his muggle relatives, he was treated worse and worse for the supposed taint of queer magic in him. Voldemort though couldn't quite comprehend how Harry hadn't snapped at his idiotic relatives. Didn't they understand what Harry could do to them? Why did the boy let them treat him like that? Why not kill those worthless muggles?  
  
Especially considering the last summer before his final year at Hogwarts where they'd locked Harry up in the cupboard for the entire three months, only letting him out to do chores. Included with that miserable existence they forced upon him, they barely fed him anything. When it was time for the end of the summer holidays, Harry demonstrated a great grasp on glamour charms to hide his battered and starved body. Voldemort gave a huge sigh of relief when Harry left his muggle relatives forever, not even minding Harry's friends anymore.  
  
Even if he didn't agree with who the boy made friends with, he did have relatively good taste. The Weasley boy and the Granger girl were steadfast in their loyalty and true friends through all of his troublesome life. For the joy they'd given to Harry, Voldemort even considered possibly sparing them in the War that was going to occur if they joined him. It was only a matter of time now. Only a matter of when.  
  
The last year was definitely the most fascinating as Harry had something to look forward to at the end of Hogwarts. He and his best friend were going to rent a flat and be roommates much like they were in Gryffindor Tower. It was good to feel Harry actually excited; it hadn't been that way for the boy since his return in the 4th year. That also happened to be the year that Harry started delving into the Dark Arts, a thing that most intimately struck Voldemort's soul. He once again saw the resemblance to himself, even if he had started dabbling in his 4th year.   
  
But to the end of the year, he saw with some satisfaction since he'd been quite crushed when he thought Harry had repelled his Death Eater attacks with ease that Harry had had quite some difficulty with them. The young man, yes, he had definitely grown up in the last three years had been nearly crushed mentally in defeat. In Harry's memories from his viewpoint, Voldemort learned how suicidal and dark Harry had become the last three months as he'd watched innocent people die to draw him out of Hogwarts. Foolish, self sacrificing Gryffindor.  
  
When it subsided a bit, Harry had crawled out of his self-pitying shell and had vowed to him on graduation day that he would be the best person he could be... even if it meant sacrificing his life to fulfill it. Voldemort had wanted to hiss again at this foolish Gryffindor nobility, but then thought again. If he could apply Harry's perseverance to his cause, there'd be no doubt who'd reign supreme. He had some of the best wizards under him, and he had once had the best witch in Bella. Not anymore though, he thought, as he watched through Harry's eyes the mudblood Hermione Granger graduate at the top of her class with the most NEWT's ever recorded in Hogwarts history.  
  
It was exactly one more NEWT than he'd acquired in his final year at Hogwarts, which had been the previous record holder. Despite himself, Voldemort was impressed. Even if she had to remind him of his muggle upbringing, a witch of her intelligence and power would be highly beneficial to his side. Too bad she was a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin, too bad. The only Gryffindor he'd ever corrupted was the pathetic Pettigrew. That did not inspire more attempts, especially when his efforts to convert James Potter and Sirius Black had failed so miserably.  
  
Time sped forward though, much faster as it got closer and closer to the day he had sent Bella and Lucius on their task to kidnap the Boy Who Lived. The summer was a stressful one but happy at that. Harry had found that as a celebrity that fame at Hogwarts was nothing compared to the celebrity on the outside world. He found himself constantly pestered by people, continuously showered by owls by companies that wanted him to work for them.  
  
Then came the fateful day, the day that was to be Harry's 18th birthday and his only birthday celebration in the midst of friends. The party was going wildly well; Harry had never felt so content as he did there with people that cared for him, people that loved him like his godfather, his best friends, and his mentor--- Dumbledore. Wave after wave of emotion hit Voldemort, making him feel strangely weak. It'd been so long since he felt such innocent elation. For this joy came not from torturing misery, but from simple happiness.  
  
All this was broken when his Death Eaters swooped into Hog's Head, surrounding the partially drunk crowd with a menacing darkness about them. Voldemort saw Harry start to the front to protect his friends; the vow to sacrifice all to save his friends not forgotten but the traitorous Severus grabbed Harry and pulled him behind. He never thought he'd see the detached and indifferent Severus actually caring to protect someone. That partially redeemed the double spy in his eyes, perhaps he could be remolded.  
  
The alarm in Harry's eyes was obvious when the chaos got more out of hand, when he saw his friends going down. He was too oblivious to his own protection that his wand was blown from his hands. And before, before Harry might try to regain his wand Bella had reached for the boy and portkeyed him out of there. It wasn't long after that, that Severus had joined them. From there, Voldemort could recall the events firsthand.  
  
Still it was intriguing to see things from Harry's eyes, to gaze at through those emerald eyes and to know that what the young man saw was as ghastly as he knew it was. His form was decrepit, a disgusting shell of what his former body had been. He knew that, but to see it through the eyes of Harry was entirely different. It wasn't nearly as revolting as he thought it'd be, though it was still repulsive. He gleaned from the memories flowing into him that Harry saw him as his greatest challenge and that was not hideous. It was actually rather complimenting.  
  
There was fear in his eyes, fear that he inspired. How sweetly intoxicating. He almost tasted it, half pleased and half perturbed he wasn't taking more delight out of it than he was. That was his last thought as he realized that his soul was twisting away from Harry's and that he was being dumped forcefully back into his own body. The process was earth shattering, the pain extraordinary.  
  
It pulled and it pushed as his soul tried to regain hold of his physical body. Torturous and tormenting, he felt every agonizingly anguished moment. Reality and clarity was blurred as he felt shoved back in, propelled into his corporeal form once more. It was a relief; it was a blessing to be back. And soon, he would be back--- back to his original body, not this snake skeleton he'd been forced to live with.  
  
When the brutalizing throbbing had subsided, he realized that he was leaning on Bella for support and that if he thought he was in horrendous suffering, it was nothing compared to Harry's. The boy was drenched in blood. It seemed all his internal agony had been translated onto Harry as its only outlet. As his crimson slits saw out of their corners that even Bella was slightly pale at the way his bond-mate was thrashing and convulsing. The boy wouldn't stop his shuddering seizures.  
  
It took a moment for Voldemort to recognize that his pain was made that much worse by what Harry was suffering through. That through the connection that he would use to exert his will over Harry and to drain Harry, that whenever the young man felt any stirring of emotion he too would feel it. It was strange, he'd had kept himself from feeling anything for so long that even the pain was strangely welcomed. Welcomed because it meant he was alive, for to be alive was to feel some pain.  
  
He didn't mind it, but he didn't want Harry to undergo anymore than he already had. If anything, the boy's childhood had been just as bad if not worse than his own. Maybe it had been better that he didn't have to turn to his muggle relatives; he never had to know their hatred like Harry had known of his. Finally, he couldn't take it to watch the boy shaking and trembling, blood pouring out of any open hole. He gestured for Lucius and Bella to deal with the boy, both of them having a great deal of knowledge over healing spells.  
  
Bella was notoriously reluctant to get close to the boy, so Lucius gently lifted the boy into his arms and held him tightly while she performed the charms to ease the boy's torment. Lucius had never felt any empathy to Harry Potter, but he did now. Too young to have known so much pain. This would have broken his beloved son. For the bonding ritual had ripped through Harry's body, manipulating every part of him to make him compatible to his bond-mate and to the dark curse so that it would work on him. And since the Dark Lord was dominant, most of his wretched pain had been passed on for the boy to experience.  
  
Eventually, Harry stopped shuddering in pain. He stopped moving at all, passing out into blessed unconsciousness where Lucius fed him several potions that would heal and give him strength. By this time, most of the other Death Eaters had apparated home, fully aware that they had to start setting up alibis of their whereabouts on this rather public night. Luckily, most of their hoods had concealed their faces. But some... some could be identified and those had to go into hiding until Voldemort was ready to rise up powerful enough to quell any resistance.  
  
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Author's Note: So you have the bonding completed. I'm sure all of you will be wondering how often this story will be updated. I want to try to go as fast as possible without losing any quality, I figure I can update every 5 days, sooner I think is better, but expect updates at least once a week during the summer! And geez the pressure I've got to live up with now that I created such a great first chapter. I hope this chapter lives up to the first. Chapter alerts will be given on the mirror_of_paradox ML ^_^.  
  
Questions: (1) So was the bonding original? Different quite from ASL's. (2) How was the memory flow that I did from Harry to Voldemort? (3) Anyone care to make a prediction on how Voldemort is going to react to the memories later?  
  
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Thanks to ?, frizzy, black rose, princess pearliest, edriana, maizeysugah, shadowwolf, wiccachic2000, partygirl, npetrenko, yxonomei, kitta baby, ntamara, susan, mirintala.  
  
Malakai: It's just begun, first 3 chapters are setup. (1) Yes, I like the bitch persona for Bella. (2) Lucius I try to make vivid, guess I do a good job. (3) Well, I only emphasize his vanity since the Forbidden spell is important. But later the draining and dominant part of the bond will show up far more significantly after ch.3. (4) Definitely. Takes place in the next chapter. Thanks! I'd hope this was an original take, I actually thought of the title b4 I thought of the storyline ^_^. Hope this chapter meets up with expectations.  
  
Tempest: You will see major hints of both pairings, that's all I'll say on that matter. Bella is mentally unstable, it's part of her charm. Brilliant, yet insane.  
  
Eaiva le Fay: (1) Yes, 'simply marvelous' refers to the way I've kept her so much like herself. (2) [snickers] We know where your affects lay. (3) Voldemort will see the most character development early on, then Lucius and Bella and the last of the major characters will be Harry, Severus, and Draco. (4) It will be both.  
  
Hyperbole: (1) She's Voldemort's bitch, what else would she be like? (2) Yes, I think I did that rather well. (3) Thanks. (4) Definitely. Voldemort softening? In a crimson moon.  
  
Abraxis: Sure they are Machiavellian characters, aren't most politicians? The means justify the end no matter what they have to do to get to the seat of power. But that doesn't mean there isn't another side of them that is likable. Two sides to coin, two sides to every person. Believe me, I know- -- I'm like that. (1) Spot on. (2) Very true. (3) I think he has to be to be able to attract anyone. (4) That's why it's a dark bond. And I believe my bonding take is quite original, isn't it? 


	3. Forbidding

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
Thanks to my spectacular beta-reader, SERRA!  
  
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I wake up  
I don't know who I am  
It's all lost  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
Not anymore, it's gone  
Gone away  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
Attempting to get there  
Where is there?  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
Wish I could remember  
But I don't  
The memories are gone  
  
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3: Forbidding (July 4, 2003 to July 7, 2003)  
  
It was one full week of coma induced healing when the only sufficient mediwizard in the Death Eater ranks declared Harry Potter strong enough for their Dark Lord to attempt a magical drain on the boy for the Forbidden spell. However, Voldemort didn't trust the mediwizard. No, he didn't trust anyone but himself and perhaps Bella when she was mentally stable. Even Lucius, he couldn't place his full faith in. He wasn't blind; he knew Lucius only followed him because he was stronger than the pureblood Malfoy. He was stronger.  
  
So he had no other choice but to check on his bond-mate for himself. Since the bonding, he had avoided the Boy Who Lived like the plague. It simply wasn't suitable for a Dark Lord to be even the slightest bit sympathetic to his arch-enemy. It would make him appear weak and he wouldn't allow that. By staying away, he appeared strong and powerful. Any wizard knew that in any type of bond, the ones bonded were most comfortable within each other's presence. The fact he kept away told of his strength.  
  
"Bring him to me," he hissed out at Bella, turning his blood red eyes to her as if daring her not to flinch. But she didn't disappoint him, smiling even that her Master chose to ask a favor of her. It was too bad that the fourteen years at Azkaban had weakened her magical essence. But if she could regain her former strength along with her sanity he'd consider her an invaluable asset. It was a pity she was weaker than Lucius, truly a pity. What made up for the lack of power was her unwavering obedience as she tilted her head quickly, running off to do his bidding.  
  
With nothing to do but wait, he turned his attention to Lucius who standing by his side. He had to have Lucius as his right hand man; Bella was simply not strong enough by herself to inspire full obedience when he wasn't in the presence of his Death Eaters. And Lucius certainly dealt out his torture in a sleek manner, always getting the best results. Bella, however, often went overboard with her victims by accidentally killing them by holding them under Cruciatus too long. Thinking of Lucius and his torture sessions reminded Voldemort of Lucius' latest prey, a certain Potions Master called Severus Snape.  
  
Fixating his always sharp eyes on Lucius, he trailed a finger deliberately down his servant's cheek knowing that Lucius disliked the touch of his scaly skin. "Lucius," he began with a sinister undertone, "how has your remolding of Severus gone? Has he been broken yet?"  
  
Like Voldemort expected, Lucius had stiffened under his touch with a malevolent loathing of his Master's gruesome touch. If Lucius wasn't so necessary, he would have been expended already. But of the Death Eaters he had left, Voldemort thought darkly, Lucius was the most powerful and that was why Lucius dared to be this transparent. He knew that Voldemort knew that he wasn't expendable. No, he was quite necessary and needed. That arrogant bastard.  
  
"It has gone as well as can be expected," Lucius responded stiffly. "Snape," he spat out, once Voldemort had removed his finger from Lucius' cheek, "was one of your most powerful Death Eaters and his resistance only proves that. He will not bend easily, but he can be remolded. I do not doubt if given enough time I will break him."  
  
"You have been given a week," Voldemort replied sharply, his voice low but dangerous. "Bella has most of her victims broken by the end of the first day---"  
  
"She kills them by the end of the first day!" Lucius exclaimed, his face flushed with a riotous wave of emotion that was so unlike the cool, chilling Malfoy. He immediately fell to his knees before the Dark Lord, knowing that he done the unthinkable by interrupting Voldemort in mid speech. The last person to do that had ended up being put under the Cruciatus Curse long enough to fry their brains, and that had been many years ago. The devastating imprint of the memory was why no one dared to challenge the Dark Lord upon his subsequent return.  
  
Foolish Malfoy. He expected something like that from a Gryffindor, but not Pettigrew--- never that rat. The only Gryffindor that he expected stand up to him like that would be Harry Potter. Who else but the Boy Who Lived? "Lucius," he warned in a deceptively soft tone while his arm snaked out to grab the supercilious blond by the throat, "don't forget that you are only standing beside me because I allow it. Do not make the mistake of underestimating me." To prove his point, he whispered the Unforgivable without a wand in his hand, "Crucio!"  
  
The proud inclination of Lucius' body twisted and turned in useless attempts to escape the horrendous pain of the Unforgivable. But it was no use; the physical pain couldn't be escaped not when Voldemort was the one that was controlling the curse. It was when Lucius' body began to contort from the effects not of the curse, but of the pain that the curse had already afflicted that he uttered the counter curse, releasing Lucius from his tormenting hell.  
  
In the background, Voldemort heard a solitary clapping that caught his attention. He turned his head and saw Bella standing by the entrance, her dark eyes fixated on Lucius' crumbled form. The flare of insane pleasure in her gaze worried Voldemort. It simply wasn't good that his most loyal Death Eater was so mentally unstable. Even before Azkaban, he'd been concerned about her stability. The years spent with the dementors had only broken her down even more.  
  
It was in the middle of her clapping that he remembered that Bella had not done what he'd asked her to do. She had not brought Harry Potter to him. It wasn't like Bella to disobey him, not like her at all. It seemed she caught his train of thought, she met his gaze and then fell gracefully to her knees and bent her head down. "Bella," he hissed at her, "why did you not bring me the boy?"  
  
Though she was obedient, she showed not a thread of fear. It spoke of her strength, what power she had left. "Avery advised me to tell you," she began in a derisive tone that was obviously aimed at the other wizard for daring to undermine her Master's authority, "that it would be in your best interest to accompany me back to Harry Potter's room. He thought it would be best for you to drain him for your spell without waking the boy from his induced coma."  
  
Despite the innuendo from Bella's tone that Avery was a dimwit, Voldemort knew otherwise. Perhaps Avery wasn't one of his strongest Death Eaters, but he had a rather uncanny knack with healing spells and being able to judge the condition of a person. If Avery advised this measure, then he would consider it. It was never wise to jump to a conclusion before he saw all the options, so he'd have go to Harry Potter's room and see the boy for himself.  
  
If anything he was patient. It was a virtue that he'd cultivated over the years of lacking a bodily form. True, he had been a bit unstable in his initial return but no one could blame him for that could they? How would anyone like to come back the way he'd come back? A hideous shell of his former glorious self? A powerful Dark Lord reduced to having to depend on a weak-willed Gryffindor?  
  
"Bella... Lucius... both of you come with me, right now!" With that harsh exclamation, he stalked out the room in a manner that was filled with more power than either of them had seen from their Lord in many years. Not only did the body Voldemort had acquired in his return look decrepit, it was decrepit. There was none of the vibrant strength of his old charisma. None of that.  
  
But it seemed that was changing. Both of them noticed the dark powerful aura that they use to feel exuding from their Master. It had been present immediately at his return, yet they hadn't felt it this strong in ages. Perhaps, it had never been this strong. The two of them were well aware of what the dark bonding curse entailed. They were the ones that had helped Voldemort the most in his research. If the bonding without Voldemort's leeching the boy of his power already strengthened him, what would come when he actually did drain his bond-mate?  
  
Bella was highly excited by this, even if she did despise the boy for defeating her Master those many years ago. But all was forgiven, oh yes--- definitely forgiven if the Boy Who Lived made her Lord invincible. She mentally began calculating, using her cunning brain to begin to plan on how best to get the boy onto her side. After all, this memory absent boy had no idea who she was and Bella could be a very convincing actress when she wanted to be one.  
  
Lucius' steam of thought was on the same vein as Bella's. He recognized that the boy was the key to keeping the upper hand on Bella. Simply put, he could not afford to let Bella get one more step above him. He was counting on using her emotional upheaval against her. It simply was not safe to allow the boy to be in her presence when she had a mood swing. Yes, that would be the perfect argument to keep the boy away from Bella's manipulations.  
  
The two of them were too busy absorbed in their own thought process that they nearly ran into Voldemort's back when he stopped abruptly once he was in the room. What stopped him was the vision of innocence as the boy, no, his bond-mate slept with the radiance of an angel. Yes, there was radiance in Harry--- he felt the power that surrounded the boy's pure white aura just waiting to be drained from him. It was a heady sensation and deeply alluring.  
  
"My Lord," Avery greeted, sinking down to his knees with his reverence, "I thought that it would be best for you to drain the boy while he was in the coma for your spell." There was a distinct tremor in the mediwizard's shoulders when he felt the Dark Lord's gaze on him. "That way... he won't... he won't...."  
  
"I believe what Avery is trying to say," Lucius remarked, taking over smoothly for a much grateful Avery, "if you drain him and cast the Forbidden spell without him having awoken from the coma, then he won't know anything but the magnetic and enigmatic Dark Lord that you were."  
  
"Still is," Bella snarled loyally, her eyes narrowing into poisonous slits at Lucius' unconcealed criticism of Voldemort's current appearance. "He still is! Or have you forgotten who your Master is---"  
  
"Bella!" Voldemort exclaimed severely. "Be silent." He inclined his head to Lucius to continue on with what he was saying, knowing that Lucius in his fickle loyalty would give him a much clearer option. "Continue Lucius."  
  
"As I was saying," Lucius began again, "the dark bonding curse that you used to bind Harry to you says quite clearly that you are the only one that he will remember. Do you not want to him to remember you as you were instead of what you are?"  
  
It was true, if he wanted to imprint a memory into Harry's mind--- he wanted it to be as the compelling yet dangerous Voldemort not the pathetic skeleton-like death he was now. And it could be that way too, all he had to do was to deplete Harry's magical energy and complete the spell before he had Harry revived from the coma. Then his bond-mate would never know anything less than perfection. Strangely, he cared deeply that he maintained the pedestal for Harry, for his bond-mate.  
  
But the fact of the matter remained that if Harry was not woken up from his coma, there'd be a fine line on knowing how much magical power he could drain without harming the boy incurably. If Harry was awake, then when he passed out from the loss then Voldemort would know that he'd taken too much already. While Lucius' idea wasn't without recommendation, he was afraid that he couldn't take that risk.  
  
He had made up his mind; his bond-mate would see him as he was now. Know him as he would now and then get to know him much more when he'd completed the Forbidden spell. He didn't doubt that Harry would only recollect a few minutes at most before he was too sapped to stay conscious. At this very moment, he could feel how easy it would be to pull Harry's energy into his own. Yes, so very easy it would be.  
  
"Ennervate!" Voldemort exclaimed, his wand pointed above the boy as the magic seeped into his bond-mate and revived him immediately.  
  
Wide, innocent green eyes opened up and fixated themselves instantly on his crimson orbs without any knowledge of anything except who was in front of him. The purity in the angelic eyes was startling enough, but what was truly staggering was the trust in them. But then again, it only made sense didn't it? The curse had been quite explicitly detailed. The only one that the bond victim would remember would be the spell-caster. It made sense for it only made the tie of those bonded stronger and much more dominant on the part of the one that cast the spell.  
  
He was the boy's entire world now, the only thing left.  
  
Unlike Lucius when he touched Harry's cheek, the boy didn't tense up or stiffen at the scaly finger. Instead he almost seem[s] to need the physical presence, leaning into it like a starved pet would do to his owner. That was what Voldemort was, wasn't he? Harry's bonded owner, his Master. Oh yes, he was, he thought with wicked delight. Letting his finger trail down the delicate throat, he drew the boy to him and flicked his tongue out to taste the pale pink lips. Sweet nectar. He'd thought no different.  
  
"Leave us," he whispered in a dangerously soft voice. "Leave now."  
  
Avery, Bella, and Lucius exchanged gazes but had no other option than to leave Voldemort alone. Of course, they would have liked to be present as the spell occurred but they knew better than to disobey a direct order from the Dark Lord. Bella's disappointment was dramatically less than Lucius', after all Voldemort had clearly gone against what Lucius' counsel had been. She couldn't have been more thrilled. Lucius was gravely dissatisfied with the way things had gone, and he was going to take it out on Avery once he got rid of Bella's annoying side presence.  
  
If things had gone as planned, he had counted on using Voldemort's current appearance against Harry--- in gaining Harry's trust. That his bonded wasn't the charismatic and charming man he seemed. Oh he knew that it'd be hard to get the boy to trust him, but a pensieve didn't lie did it? Damn Voldemort for showing Harry his true appearance. The wasted evil was indeed his true self. It made Lucius shudder inside to see such devastated ugliness. Obviously that route wasn't going to work anymore. But, he smiled subtly inside; he had more than one plan up his robe. It was just going to be harder to pull off.  
  
He was a Malfoy though. It was what Malfoys did, pull off the impossible. Perhaps, he'd never be able to fully manipulate Voldemort into doing things his way, seeing things his way. But if he got to the boy, who was undoubtedly going to be Voldemort's weakness, then he could influence the Dark Lord through his bond-mate. That would be just as well. He didn't care if he was at the forefront of power as long as he had the power.  
  
It was a dangerous game he was playing, but wasn't the most to be gained always a bit more risky? Indisputably so. The unfortunate side effect of the dark curse was as much of a benefit for Voldemort as it was for Lucius. After all, Voldemort wasn't the only one that had tried to kill the boy--- he had attempted to do just that in the boy's 2nd year. Complete erasure was definitely going to aid him as well.  
  
If he wasn't sure the dark curse had worked, Voldemort was absolutely reassured by the blank trusting in Harry's eyes. No one had ever looked at him in that way, no one. "Harry," he whispered out delicately, testing the name on his tongue, "your name is Harry. I am Voldemort, and you are mine. Mine."  
  
"Yours," Harry responded with a vague look of confusion and incomprehension. All Harry knew was that this man in front of him was the only thing that he recognized in the entire room, entire world. He still knew everything, but he didn't remember anything that was substantially linked to his life. Nothing, nothing at all. Except the crimson eyes that were staring into his own with such blatant possession.  
  
Voldemort was insufferably pleased that his bond-mate, his pet knew exactly what the situation was even if he did look very perplexed by it all. No matter, there would be plenty of time to explain it to his Harry later. What was important was the Forbidden spell and recapturing his old body again, and from there--- if he managed to succeed, there were other spells in the Tome of Forbidden that dared to be tried.  
  
Gently he cupped Harry's youthful cheeks and drew the young man to him. When they were close enough to be touching yet not, he paused for a moment not quite certain of how to drain the boy of his magical essence. The ancient spell had never been quite specific, only briefly hinting that action was needed. The deliberate vagueness could mean anything from violence to sex. From intimate relations to brutal torture. Such a choice to make between two such extremes.  
  
Tilting Harry's head back, he lowered his mouth onto the boy's soft petals and all the tenderness vanished as he kissed with a passion to devour the sweet essence. Crushing against those nectarine lips, Voldemort felt the pull of Harry's power more strongly--- it was there for the taking. His snakelike tongue flicked into Harry's warm wetness, wrapping around the honeyed tongue and the further into passion he went, the more magical essence he pulled at, pulled into him.  
  
The slim yet sinewy body pressed against his own skeleton form began to tremble heavily with Harry's panting breaths as the boy fitted his body closer to him as lost in the passionate embrace as Voldemort was. It had been so long since someone had reacted that way to him and never in this body. Even Bella did not, even Bella would not. That thought drove him on, made him grasp at the energy that he took freely and forcefully.  
  
But not too much, no not too much. Draining the boy completely dry was not his intention. That would take Harry much longer to recuperate his strength. No, he needed just enough to perform the Forbidden spell and that was it. Once he felt his power magnify itself enough, he drew away from the torrent embrace and felt his bond-mate collapse against him. It seemed he hadn't sucked his pet into unconsciousness, but Harry was still very weak.  
  
With tenderness, he pushed Harry down to the bed and cast a simple sleeping charm over the boy. It would last long enough until Avery could induce a coma for the boy's healing. Until then, he thought, as he stormed out of the room and headed straight to chambers. It was time... it the moment to try the Forbidden. Before Lucius or Bella could think about entering into his private rooms, he slammed the door in their faces. No, he wanted to do this alone so that none would see him in his moment of weakness.  
  
The pain of the bonding had been excruciating, but nothing like what the Forbidden entailed. No, as he looked over the parchment he'd carefully prepared for the spell it was going to be ten times as horrific. But this he could stand, this he would survive through. It was the only way to regain his old body, his proper body. With that thought, he began chanting- -- feeling the magic he'd taken from Harry going into the words, into the very spell itself:  
  
Take this body that is not mine  
Take it away, take it far away  
Return to me what use to be mine  
With this power, I have found a way  
To take back forcefully what was mine  
Give back what was stolen away  
Give back what use to be mine  
  
Forbidding magic swirled around him in no glint of gold, nor silver, nor green--- no the spell was colorless but there. It was there, the powerful magic that drained out of his own self to feed its demand for more and more magical essence of which to feed itself. He felt himself almost drained dry, just as he had done to his bond-mate, his pet. The feeling of being surrounded faded away as pain burst into his very soul.  
  
Warping away at his old form, tearing his soul away much like the Avada Kedavra had done so long ago. It manipulated and twisted his very being in ways he'd never thought possible. Changing and canceling out his old body, it thrust him back hard into the reformed and remade body. It didn't stop there; it continued it machinations. And through it all, the horrendous pain that his mind, his body, his soul was under never numbed and never let up for a moment. It continued and continued, wave after agonizing wave of excruciating torment.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity he lost himself to the agony and passed out.  
  
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Author's Note: My beta, Serra said that this chapter was better. Then she said that I am setting an impossible standard for myself. I'm like... great! Just let me tell you, this story is so hard to write. It's like nerve racking to try to write this story. But I love it. It's not as fun to write b/c the story's so bitchy. Trying to make everything stay true to the character and keep my plot moving along isn't easier. And guess what? To tantalize you even further, Serra says Chapter 4's better than 3! ;p.  
  
Questions: (1) So is the story getting better? (2) Whoa! Harry said a line! Comments? (3) Voldemort looks like TMR, like no like the Forbidden spell? (4) Any other thoughts? Insights? Predictions?  
  
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Thanks to Aria, Harial, Gemm1, Party Girl, HPIceAngel, Spideria, Solana, Nabiki, Tempest, Kitta Baby, Ntamara.  
  
Abraxis: Perhaps that is the difference, but LV and AD are still Machiavellian in that they will do whatever they need to make sure that their cause is won. The one struggling always has the most dirty work to do.  
  
Malakai: Voldemort was definitely maliciously delighted. He will become more attached to his magical battery, and I think Voldemort has to have this huge ego but with a brilliant mind to more than back it up. He is a slightly insane genius, like all geniuses are.  
  
Lolita: Bellatrix is my favorite new character that JKR introduced b/c she's so twisted, and I think I've got her characterized well.  
  
Anne Phoenix: A fellow writer! I've read some of your stuff! [blushes] Thanks! Feel free to nitpick, only makes me better and points to my beta (her fault too!) [snickers] I love Bella, at least I love that I have her so accurate.  
  
Eaiva le Fay: Voldemort might be sympathetic, but I don't know how much he will soften and he will certainly not turn into a good oh righteous like Weasley person. No bloody way. He will remain distinctively dark, perhaps with a slight shadow of a conscience at best. 


	4. Returning

Title: **In the Absence of Memory**

Author: Yih

Disclaimer:  All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.

Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic.  They are embedded into the fanfic.  I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  

Thanks to my fan-BLOODY-tastic beta-reader, **_SERRA_**!

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I wake up

I don't know who I am

It's all lost

Those memories of me

Nothing's there

Not anymore, it's gone

Gone away

To a place, far away

I run hard

Attempting to get there

Where is there?

I don't know, I don't know

Wish I did

Wish I could remember

But I don't

The memories are gone

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4: Returning (July 8, 2003 to July 11, 2003)

Consciousness was a harsh thing.  Brutal after a Forbidden spell had run ravage of his disgusting skeleton.  Voldemort blinked his eyes, trying to focus on something--- anything that would allow him to figure out if he had succeeded.  He glanced down and saw that his hands no longer were covered by scaly skin; instead it was a pale white but when his fingers reached to feel it, it felt like true skin--- soft and supple.  

Swiftly he stood up and hit a wave of dizziness that threatened to make him fall to the ground if he had not clutched the shelf that was nearby.  It was then he realized why it felt so different to be standing, that he was no longer a deformed, back bent skeleton but a tall, straight back man in the prime of his life.  He felt it; he felt the physical strength he'd been lacking.  Now, he only had to see it.  

Once the spinning stopped, he moved cautiously over to the other side of his desk and withdrew from the drawer the mirror he kept inside.  He was so startled with his regained appearance he nearly dropped it.  Staring back at him was the face of a man no older than Lucius Malfoy, indeed it was quite miraculous since Malfoy did look young for his age.  His dark brown locks were longer than he remembered, falling over his ears but he decided he rather liked the look.  The only disappointment he saw was that his eyes were still the same dark crimson.  

He would have liked to have gone back to his cerulean blue eyes, but the spell he'd use to make him nearly invincible had left him with the color of blood orbs.  No matter, the image he saw was quite beyond his expectations.  Setting the small mirror down, he transfigured it to a full length mirror and started disrobing his body to see if his body was as he remembered it being before.  

His critical eyes saw that it was no worse but also no better than it had been before.  There was no fat on his thin form, just a slender muscular build not anything like Lucius' power physique.  He'd been far more interested in strengthening his knowledge on the Dark Arts to ever worry about his body.  Not that he had to anymore, he decided.  If he could perform a Forbidden spell, he was sure he'd find a way to make himself immortal and the same for his bond-mate.  He couldn't very well allow his magical well to die on him now could he?  

No, not at all.  Once he was satisfied that the magnificent vision in front of him wasn't fading and wasn't a fantasy, he turned around and went back to the bed where he'd laid his pet.  Gently, he studied Harry and saw that while he was at his physical prime again, his bond-mate was pale to the point of looking like death.  If Avery didn't revive him to full health soon, he'd have to go about acquiring a real mediwizard instead of a dark wizard practicing medimagic because it was necessary.  Or he had to get Severus to brew powerful revival potions.  

His pet needed help, even if he wanted to revel in his rebirth and renewal by himself a bit longer.  He needed Avery and Severus.  He had no other choice but to call out for his faithful Death Eater.  "Yes, Master?" Bella cried out, rushing toward him when he opened the door to his private chambers with an awed look on her face as she beheld the darkly handsome man that she had willingly gone to Azkaban for.  "I..."

"Get Avery," Voldemort told her coldly, his crimson eyes quickly flickering over to Lucius who appeared from a darkened corridor.  He knew that Bella was glaring at Lucius angrily and enviously before turning around and doing her Lord's bidding.  "Lucius," he called harshly, "bring Severus to me now and do whatever you must to get him to make a revival potion."

"Yes, Master," Lucius responded respectfully, bowing head down, "I will do what you ask of me."

~

Many ideas were running through Lucius' head, a great deal of thoughts were siphoning into his head as he contemplated his options.  He really had only one now, he had to get to Harry--- he had to get the boy on his side.  Never in his wildest expectations did he expect Voldemort to succeed in the fashion that he had.  But there was no doubt anymore, the old Voldemort was back--- the Dark Lord that held sway over the masses with his dark beauty and sinister mind.  

It certainly wouldn't hurt to have a powerful wizard to help him, with that his focus shifted to the task of remolding Severus to serve him loyally first.  That'd be a tough task, one that was not going to be easy to do for Severus was a hard shell to crack.  It was going to be damn near impossible, but if there was one thing that Lucius was--- he was resourceful and manipulative.  And he knew exactly how to reach Severus, what way but through Harry?

He'd seen the way Severus had protected the boy at Hog's Head.  The boy must mean something to Severus, had to mean something to him.  But what exactly?  Lucius' mind began to have devious thoughts as he considered Harry not as the Boy Who Lived and therefore his enemy but as a simple young man.  A beautiful young man and he knew firsthand that Severus' taste ran more of the male persuasion.  

Was it possible that there was something more between the Potions Master and the student he supposed despised?  Perhaps.  No one knew for certain, and Lucius most certainly did not trust the rampant rumors.  It was only highly logical for Severus to treat Harry in such a fashion, quite Slytherin of him to hide love behind hate.  Then again, maybe he was overanalyzing matters and his concern for Harry was simply that of a teacher for a student.  But not bloody likely, Lucius thought, since Severus wasn't that sort.  Yet Severus did take duty serious, so maybe... it was.  

Whatever way Severus leaned, Lucius was going to use it to his advantage since it was so blatantly clear that the traitorous Death Eater did care about the Boy Who Lived.  Lucius smiled maliciously and with supreme confidence strolled down the multitude of steps down to the dungeon where he was currently keeping his former friend, his use to be fellow Death Eater.  He was determined to find out though and toying with Severus was ever so much fun.  Had been ever since they were young.  Severus had always been far too serious.  

"Severus," Lucius called out in voice neither harsh nor friendly to the man chained to the wall, "have you thought over what I proposed to you yesterday more carefully?  You don't want to wear my patience out, and it's been a week now.  You know the answer that would please me."  

The lanky and worn Potions Master raised his head to stare into Lucius' unflinching eyes with dark venom.  "Never," Severus snarled, "I'll never join you or Voldemort ever again.  I've changed even if you're still the same piece of..."

It seemed his once close companion had forgotten how fast a Malfoy could move, Lucius thought as he closed his hand hard over Severus' throat.  "Don't forget," he told Severus threateningly, "who is the prisoner and master here."  

Severus narrowed his dark eyes, but wisely said nothing.  He only glared at Lucius with contempt and hatred and every filthy emotion he could fling at his former friend.  "And you know that it never is a good thing to cross me, Severus."  Lucius took immense pleasure in trailing a finger down Severus' sensitive throat, remembering quite well how his fuck buddy would squirm at even the most feather light touch.  "Because I know all your weaknesses."  

To accentuate his warning, his other hand had descended down to Severus' groin and groped the heat he found hard enough he knew to cause the other man a good bit of pain.  "And I know not just your physical weaknesses but your other ones as well."  He kept increasing his grip until he knew that Severus was reeling from the agonizing pain.  "You wouldn't want any harm to come to Harry now would you?"  He squeezed one more time violently enough to draw a ragged cry from Severus' hoarse throat.  "Would you?" 

"No," Severus rasped.  "No."  

Lucius tilted his head to the side as he loosened his hold on Severus' aching crotch.  "I never thought that Harry Potter would be your weakness, Severus.  I never did think you went for the younger boys, but you've changed a lot haven't you?"  He paced deliberately from one side to another before stopping in front of Severus' prone body.  "Whatever in the world were you thinking when you decided to betray the Dark Lord?  To betray me?  Our friendship?  Our trust?"  

"What friendship?" Severus snapped weakly.  "You used me."

"You let me," Lucius mocked harshly.  "You let me use you in any fashion that I chose as long as it got you off, didn't you--- you sick sadist.  I remember you use to say 'harder, Lucius, damn it fuck me harder!'  You weren't only my slut, you were the Dark Lord's whore too.  Don't tell me you didn't want it," he murmured in a low and sensual voice.  "You wanted it; you craved it."  

"I didn't know better," Severus responded brusquely.  "I was a fool."  

"That you were," Lucius agreed darkly.  "That indeed you were."  Deliberately, he let a light though twisted smile curve his seductive lips.  "Did you know that Harry Potter is dying right now as we speak?  That his life force is being drained away by the Dark Lord?"  As he expected, Severus' face paled.  Interesting.  "It is within your power to save him from certain death," he remarked casually, knowing that he had the Potions Master's full attention.  "All that is needed is a powerful revival potion, something that you could brew quite easily.  Would you like the shadow of the Boy Who Lived's demise on yourself for refusing to do what the Dark Lord asks?"  

Torturous emotions and thoughts swept through Severus' exhausted body and mind.  Did he dare obey Voldemort again when it was so easy to be seduced back into the temptation again?  It was always there, that dark desire in him to concede all moral values for the knowledge that Voldemort had.  And it was that seductive darkness that had drawn him the first few times foolishly, like his shag sessions with Lucius--- like the dark mark he acquired from the Dark Lord.  

But he couldn't let Harry die.  No, not if there was a chance to save him.  It was only a good thing that Voldemort no longer resembled his former charismatically gorgeous self.  If he did, if he was what he had been the desire to succumb to the sins of past would he horribly difficult to overcome.  Luckily, Voldemort was what he truly should be--- a skeleton of death and darkness incarnated into being.  

"I will do what he asks," he responded hoarsely.  

"What he asks?" Lucius queried.  "Tsk... tsk, have you already forgotten your manners Severus?"

"You cannot make me..."

Lucius' hand closed like a vice around Severus' still aching crotch.  "I think I can."  

"...call him Master."  

"You will," Lucius growled.  "You will call him Master, but you will be loyal to me foremost."  He increased his grip, knowing how excruciating it was.  Mentally, he ticked off the seconds with calmed patience and admiration for the stubbornness Severus was displaying.  "What do you say Severus?"  

"No..."

"Say it Severus," Lucius urged in a velvet edged voice of dark enticement.  "It is so easy.  Say it."  

The pain was agonizing.  He felt like his innards were flaming alive and combusting because of the infernal pressure.  How much longer could he take this?  Not much longer, his mind screamed, not much longer if the bastard kept increasing the damnable pressure.  "Master," he rasped.  "Master..."  

Lucius grinned.  "Now that was easy, wasn't it?"  

~

He knew what Lucius was up to.  No doubt Lucius was using Malfoy manipulation to the limit to secure Severus' loyal foremost to him.  That was what he'd do, and he was well aware Lucius was made of the same mettle as himself.  He knew but he didn't stop it.  Why should he?  If Lucius was as smart as Voldemort knew that he was, then Lucius was quite ware that to go against him now was complete folly.  

Besides, he was sure that he had more than enough Salazar Slytherin cunning in him to outmaneuver Lucius Malfoy any day.  It'd be such a pity if Lucius was foolhardy enough to underestimate possibly the most powerful Dark Lord for a very long time.  Especially now, he thought with dark pleasure, that he had his own personal energy well to rejuvenate himself.  There'd be no stopping him as long as Severus found a way to speed up the recovery time for his pet to regain his magical energy faster.  

He could very well find it in his heart to not torture the traitor into insanity if Severus provided powerful revival potions for Harry.  Yes, he could be merciful indeed when it suited his nefarious purposes and if he had something to gain.  It wasn't like he'd get the maximum effort or ability from Severus if he was constantly putting the man under the Cruciatus Curse.  No, if he wanted the best he'd have to refrain from torturing no matter how much he wanted to punish the treacherous bastard.  

His best option was Severus after all.  If there was one wizard that could restore his bond-mate back to full health, it was the youngest Potions Master of the century.  He'd just have to hope Lucius' manipulation went well, not that he had any doubt in Malfoy's persuasive powers.  Lucius was nearly as good as he was in inspiring loyalty and followers.  Of course, it was only nearly and Lucius, no matter how proud of his pureblood that he was, was not as powerful as a wizard as he was. 

Not ever before and not ever now, he thought with malicious satisfaction as his eyes flitted over his pet's pale and heavily breathing form.  But at least the heaving chest was a sign that the young man was still struggling to live.  He wasn't quite so deathly still at the verge of dying, not when Avery had dumped the most powerful healing charm he'd known onto the boy a few moments before.  No, everything was going to be fine when Lucius got to the hard-headed Severus.  

But what was taking him so goddamn long?  Revival potions took hours to brew, and precious time was wasting!  He was about to call Bella to him to find out what was keeping Lucius so long when the sound of a consistent knock drew his focus away from his bond-mate.  He knew that there was only one person that knocked like that... Lucius.  "Come in," he called out in a voice filled with impatience and edginess, "Lucius."  

Lucius entered and following rather meekly behind him was a ragged Severus.  The look on Lucius' face was well worth the pain and the time that it taken to get his former appearance back.  Really, the Forbidden spell had only been drawn to his attention a few months prior--- a lovely possibility once the bonding was completed.  Astonishment and disbelief was etched into Lucius' beautiful face, not quickly smoothed away for Voldemort to miss any of the rain of emotions.  

The truly intriguing face was that of Severus'.  Oh, he'd remember how pleasurable it had been for both of them when he'd recruited the talented young Potions Master into his ranks.  The shocked expression on Severus' face wouldn't go away, it was like he didn't believe what he was seeing.  Unlike Lucius and the other Death Eaters, Severus had no idea what he had been up to in recent months.  No, he'd been kept in the dark in the months leading up to the discovery that he was a spy.  Voldemort had hoped his fuck toy hadn't betrayed him, but he couldn't ignore the warning signs.  Not that Lucius would let him.  

"My Lord," Lucius greeted respectfully, bowing almost horizontally to the ground with his reverence, "I have brought Severus to you.  I do apologize for taking so long, but Severus has agreed to whatever you ask of him with his full cooperation.  You will find him very amenable."  

"Good," Voldemort hissed, "it has taken you long enough, Lucius."  His crimson eyes met Severus' and saw his reflection gleaming in the dark orbs, a reflection he remembered quite well when he'd been fucking the man's willingly wanton mouth.  "And Severus," he addressed the man, "have you forgotten your manners?"

As if on cue, Severus dropped to his knees and rested his forehead against the ground in an entirely submissive position.  He had not forgotten; he had just been too stunned to see the old Voldemort, the Voldemort he had once shagged with complete abandon.  The Voldemort that had made all the delicious pleasures of the flesh become reality for him.  This was the Voldemort he was afraid to see, this darkly magnetic wizard had the powerful to charm even the most innocent of angels to his side.  Voldemort was powerful, but seduction was his greatest weapon.  

"No, I see you haven't," Voldemort remarked approvingly.  "Very good, Severus," he murmured sensually, knowing precisely how to make an unwanted shiver run down the dark haired man's spine.  "I am sure Lucius has told you what I require.  You do not want young Harry Potter to die now would you?  I am certain you don't, so you'd best do what is necessary and do it without questions."  

Severus mentally shuddered, though physically he kept any of that from showing on his body.  "No, I do not want Harry Potter to die, Master," he answered with stiff obedience when he wanted nothing more than to snap at Voldemort.  Now was not the time to let his emotions get out of hand; it was time to put his best Slytherin features into overdrive.  That meant keeping calm and cool, waiting patiently to take in the entire situation before making a move.  I will do whatever you ask of me."  

"Good, Severus," Voldemort remarked with patronizing indulgence that he'd treat a naughty pet.  It was meant to cut Severus down, and it was proven to be highly effective from the way he saw the Potions Master tense up even more.  "As I am sure that Lucius has told you," he began in a commanding tone, "that I need a revival potion for the boy.  I'm afraid if he isn't given one, he will meet an unfortunate end."  

Having said that, he gestured for Severus to follow him further into the room where the Potions Master learned that the rasping sound he'd heard earlier was that of Harry's vast struggles to breathe.  Every breath taken was harsh on his ears, a bleak reminder of what Voldemort had likely put Harry through.  He cringed mentally at the thought.  He had no choice but to help the boy even if it meant only delaying the inevitable.  Even if it meant that.  

"How long will it take to brew him a strong enough potion to help him?" Voldemort questioned severely.  "I think you can see," he remarked with deliberate detached indifference, "that unless you brew it soon, the boy will have very little strength left to even do the involuntary functions that his body needs."  

Voldemort was right.  Harry was barely alive, and while a mediwizard could help him it didn't seem that there was any physical affliction to the body.  It was like he had simply been drained of all his life energy, was that how Voldemort had gotten back his former body?  It made sense, Severus reflected, since only the darkest of magics could possibly do something this extraordinary.  And a revival potion would give back energy the body needed for life though it did not heal.  But what spell had he used to get results such as this?  Voldemort looked hardly any older than he did, indeed he appeared radiant and simply magnificent.  

Severus understood why his foolish youth had fallen for the magnetically gorgeous Slytherin heir.  It still didn't make it easier to accept the greatest mistake of his life, but it did make it somewhat acceptable.  After all, he wasn't the only one to fall into the thrall of Voldemort.  Many others had, at least he thought callously, he hadn't drowned into the pitfall like so many others had.  He had seen reason, but it'd taken time.  Oh, it had taken time to see the slight insanity lurking beneath.  The insanity that he didn't see anymore and that scared him.

It was that madness that had been Voldemort's weakness, that mad crazy desire to overpower anything and everything that stood in his way.  They could use that against him, but what could they use now if Voldemort was thinking clearly and cleverly with that brilliant mind of his?  That was a terrifying thought.  For Voldemort in his right mind was definitely the most powerful wizard in the world.  No doubt, no uncertainty on that.  There was a reason a Malfoy served him.  

"It will take me a few hours," Severus responded carefully.  "A few hours to brew the potion."

"Then you best start," Voldemort murmured smoothly, signaling for Lucius to come close.  "You will assist Severus with whatever he needs, and when he is done you are to bring the potion to me with instructions on..."

"It would be best for me to administer the potion," Severus interrupted.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes a bit at the interruption, but let it pass since he saw through the reasons.  So Severus was willing to show his concern for the boy even in front of him?  Hmm... interesting.  "So be it."  

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**Author's Note:** According to Serra, this is the best chapter so far.  Do you agree with her?  I've hit a road block with this story, but as usual you can nag me on the Mirror_of_Paradox mailing list and I'll keep that mailing list updated on the progress of this fanfiction.  

Questions: (1) How is Lucius/Severus interaction?  (2) How was Severus addition to the plot?  (3) Isn't Lucius wicked?  (4) Voldemort evilly concerned?  (5) Any other comments?

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Thanks to Lolita, Tempest, Goldengirl2, Spideria, Princess Pearliest, HPIceAngel, GY, ntamara, Quickjewel.  

SilverYoukai: Voldemort isn't a misunderstood boy.  He is inherently a Slytherin.  Being evil, doesn't mean you can't care about someone.  It just mean you don't care what happens to those you don't care about.

Eaiva le Fay: Definitely, there will be developed, but it'll be slow.  Well Harry's only memory is Voldemort, whose to say what is attractive if you only remember that?

Malakai: It's okay.  [snickers].  Lucius is very manipulative and power hungry.  Bellatrix is the same, but loyal.  Interesting way to use foil eh?

Rarity88: Perhaps, but I thought I did enough pain.  Harry is very confused, he's not Weak!Harry.  No, he won't be weak.  I don't think Voldemort would tolerate weakness.  Blind devotion maybe, but never weakness.  You'll see Harry in Ch.5.  Never fear. 

Abraxis: Definitely a bitch.  Bella won't get a massive infusion of sanity, at least not a massive infusion.  Gradually, she'll stabilize or else Voldemort will have to get rid of her.  


	5. Waking

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
Thanks to my fan-BLOODY-tastic beta-reader, SERRA!  
  
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I wake up  
I don't know who I am  
It's all lost  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
Not anymore, it's gone  
Gone away  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
Attempting to get there  
Where is there?  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
Wish I could remember  
But I don't  
The memories are gone  
  
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5: Waking (July 14, 2003 to July 20, 2003)  
  
The potions had definitely done their job, and they had done it well. Even Voldemort was hard pressed to find a single thing wrong with the potion with his keenly sharp crimson eyes. The only thing he could fault was how long it'd taken. It'd been an entire week of waiting for Harry to wake from the forced sleep that was the side affect of the revival potion, since that was what it'd take for Harry to actually look relatively healthy. If Voldemort had done things entirely Severus' way, Harry would have been in the slumber state at least another week.  
  
But Voldemort wasn't going to continue to do things Severus' way when it was clear that Harry was more than healthy enough to decrease his intake enough that he wouldn't be sleeping 24 hours a day. He was highly anticipating Harry's reaction to him, since from what he'd gathered during their brief exchange when Harry had first awoken after the bonding, there had been absolute trust and adoration in those brilliant emerald eyes. And that was strangely enticing to him in a way having Death Eaters bowing down to him wasn't. He supposed it was Harry's innocence that drew greater appeal.  
  
Corrupting something that naive was pure deviousness at its best. It was something he took great satisfaction in. Especially since somehow despite Harry's awful childhood experiences, he had managed to maintained a horribly pure aura. There was something about this boy that was special; he certainly was powerful. Just thinking about the power rush he'd gotten when he'd drained the boy was enough to make him shudder with intense burning desire. Too bad it wouldn't be wise to even think about sucking energy from the boy for weeks.  
  
But there were other ways to slake his lust, he thought with chillingly calculating eyes that swept over Harry's slender yet nicely muscular form. It was quite reminiscent of his own body in its youth, though he certainly didn't mind the slightly bulkier built of his body that he had now. Undoubted it was a vast improvement over the dilapidated form of his miraculous resurrection. None as obvious as when he stared at Harry's delicious sleeping body and felt the fire flickering downward to his groin.  
  
His pet was definitely attractive, quite pleasing to the eye. No wonder Lucius had felt it fit to inform him of a certain Potions Master had been making eyes at his Harry. He narrowed his eyes vindictively as he heard the door creaking open, Severus had arrived to give his bond-mate another dose of the revival potion, the last dose. Tomorrow morning Harry would finally wake up and embrace the world with the same light as a newborn baby.  
  
Until the next morning came, he wasn't going to let Harry out of his sight, not when the traitorous bastard was with him tending to him with the most tenderness of care. The more Voldemort saw Severus with Harry, the more he was convinced that Lucius was spot on, that Severus did indeed care for the young man as more than a mere student. It simply was not like the Severus that he knew to be so gentle without undue reason. And a student wasn't reason enough.  
  
"Timely as always," Voldemort stated with a distinct edge to his tone, "Severus."  
  
"Yes, I am Master," Severus muttered his answer with straining reluctance, but the harsh lines that marred his severe face faded slightly when he saw the sleeping Harry. "I'm here to administer the last potion to Mr. Potter."  
  
"Then administer it," he commanded harshly, his eyes never leaving Harry's sweetly innocent form. "The sooner that you do," he began with a sinister undertone, "the sooner that he will awake and that things will start up again."  
  
Inside Severus shuddered at the deviously gorgeous picture that his former Master was making. No wonder the insanely brilliant Bellatrix was caught in the web; no wonder that the cunningly deceptive Lucius had no choice but to bow to this man. But his Harry didn't deserve this, no his gentle young lover didn't deserve this. Yet as much as he wanted to rid Harry of the certain misery he would be facing, he hadn't been able to.  
  
Not with Avery and Lucius watching over him like hawks to make sure he was making a revival potion and nothing else. The ingredients they had gathered made it pointless to try anything else; they had specifically gathered what the book had required. There was no fooling Avery, and there was especially no fooling Lucius. So after today, this last day, Harry would again have to face Voldemort and the horrors that awaited him.  
  
He just wish that Harry didn't have to; that this terrible nightmare would be over. But that was too much to hope for in a world that was looking quite bleak without further faith. From all that he had managed to attune his ears to, he had only pieced together part of the bigger picture. He knew that Voldemort had cast some sort of dark curse on Harry, that Voldemort had then used the aftereffects of such a curse to cast a Forbidden spell that had helped him regain his lost body.  
  
The conclusion Severus had come to was that Voldemort must have bonded Harry to him, for that was the only possible way Voldemort could have tapped into Harry's power. But what curse had he used? And would that change the lovely young man he had grown to care so deeply for? That he had learned to love? He shuddered to even think that it would twist something so beautifully naive into something demented and evil. No, not his Harry.  
  
~  
  
Waking up without any knowledge of anything about himself that pertained to him at all was insanely frightening. Oh, he still knew about the world as the world, but not in any significance to himself. It was basically like he was a slate that'd been wiped entirely clean, except for a single piece of knowledge. That a wizard called Voldemort was very important to him. That was all.  
  
What was scary was that he knew exactly what Voldemort looked like, every detail about him but he didn't have the faintest clue what he looked like. What color were his eyes? What did his face look like? What did he look like? He didn't know, yet he knew precisely how Voldemort looked like. Gaunt, skeleton-like form that was devastatingly wasted and deep crimson eyes that pierced into his soul.  
  
It wasn't only the appearance that he knew so well; he also knew about the man himself. No one would ever use just a man when describing Voldemort, he was the Dark Lord--- or at the very least, possibly the most powerful wizard since Grindelwald. Probably even more powerful if something hadn't happened to delay him. But what exactly, he didn't know. It was like he had no recollection of any events that happened beyond the first fall. He surmised that must have been when he was born since he had no recollection of himself either.  
  
With trembling hands and shaking nerves, he managed to crawl out from the bed and make his way to a mirror where he took in his physical appearance. He found that he wasn't as skeletal as Voldemort was, even if he was on the rather thin side. His hair was a unruly dark brown, and his eyes were brilliantly green. Any other details were a bit obscure since his eyesight was fairly poor. He must use glasses, he construed. But where were they?  
  
It was certainly very curious that he didn't know anything about himself, yet he did know very much about the wizarding world--- a world that he shouldn't know if he wasn't magical. And he had to be magical, he concluded, he had to be a wizard. Since he knew that if he chanted out spells with a wand that something would happen, even if it wasn't always the result that he wanted.  
  
All his memories, his very being of who he was had been erased entirely out of his mind like magic. It was undoubted magic, his logical mind concluded, but why? Who had done it? Was it Voldemort? No, he didn't want to think that Voldemort had done it. He didn't want to believe something so bad about the only person that he recognized in the world even if what he knew about the Dark Lord was hardly any good.  
  
Quite frankly, it wasn't hard to believe the atrocities that Voldemort had committed prior to his first fall from grace. The very appearance of the man was like the reincarnation of death and evil itself, especially with the blood red eyes that drilled so deeply in. He shuddered to think to have that man against him, but he didn't think that the torture and cruelty Voldemort had shown to those that went against him was anything like what Voldemort felt for him. He was important to Voldemort, thus he wouldn't be touched.  
  
That much kept his mind from panicking as it started pulling up all this history about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The crimes against humanity they'd done was unspeakable. He felt like he should be sickened with disgust; he certainly didn't approve of it but he felt that Voldemort had to have a reason. Despite his rather ruthless treatment of his enemies, he felt that Voldemort had to have had a reason.  
  
From all that he recalled of the powerful Dark Lord was that the wizard was first and foremost a cunningly intelligent man with a thirst for power and fulfillment. True, it had led him to being a tyrant, but perhaps he'd learn his lesson in his downfall. Then again, maybe not. All these thoughts were theories, really. This information in his head was there, but it was not his opinion he concluded just stuff that he knew from whoever or whatever had taken his memories away from him.  
  
Then maybe Voldemort didn't have a reason for his unmerciful maliciousness. Maybe Voldemort was just simply dark and evil. Yet, he didn't want to believe that even if all the evidence of his knowledge pointed to the contrary. His only real memory was that of waking up briefly some time ago and hearing the man say that he belonged to him, that he was his. It was after that possessive declaration that Voldemort had kissed him, not tenderly yet not in a way seeking to hurt him. It was more about possession than anything else.  
  
That and want.  
  
He supposed it was a miracle that he still remembered magic even if it was somewhat connected to Voldemort. All his knowledge, which he kept mixing up with memories that were nonexistent seemed keyed to Voldemort. He certainly knew he could do magic, and he vaguely remembered how to do magic, yet he didn't consciously feel the magic there. Was magic really all tied up to the wand that he knew he had to hold? He didn't recall ever holding a wand, yet he just knew that was the key to wielding magic. It acted like a focal point for concentration, he imagined.  
  
Sighing, he realized during these reflective thoughts he'd moved away from the mirror near his bed to the small window that was the only glimpse into the world outside of his room. Well, he assumed it was his room since he was staying in it. He guessed he still had the concepts of life even if he had no information on his own life. This was all very frustrating, he thought with dark humor, and highly annoying.  
  
He tried looking out at the outside surroundings, but his eyesight was so poor that it did him no good. Another irritating thing, he thought to himself, that he would have to remedy as soon as possible. He sighed and leaned against the window sill, using it to support his body weight since his limbs still felt quite weak. He had to concentrate very hard so that he would not tremble too much.  
  
"So you're awake," murmured a softly compelling voice of a person that obviously knew him since there was a familiarity in the tone. He turned around and was confronted with a heartbreaking magnetic dark hair man with eyes that were bearing down into his very soul. "Do you know who I am, Harry?"  
  
So his name was Harry? He knew that this darkly beautiful man knew him, but he had no idea who this man was. "No," he responded softly, "I don't know."  
  
The man chuckled, strangely pleasing to the eat though he suspected that the man didn't often make the pleasant sound. "It is curious you don't remember who I am, then again I do look quite different than I did before," the mysterious man commented. "Do you recognize the name, Voldemort?"  
  
When he heard the name uttered, the only information that he knew he was connected to himself, he found himself approaching the alluring man. "Do you know where he is?" he asked in earnest. "Where Voldemort is?"  
  
"He stands in front of you," murmured the sinfully gorgeous individual. "I am Voldemort."  
  
He couldn't be, but there was something hauntingly familiar about the crimson blood eyes. They were exactly the same as the eyes that he remembered bearing down into his soul when he'd seen Voldemort for the first time he had awoken. However, everything else was different. This beautiful individual in front of him was simply too different to be Voldemort. Even the voice, the raspy voice from before had been replaced by a throaty sexiness. Entirely changed, but the eyes were still the unchanged.  
  
"You. are not the same," he said--- Harry said, stating the obvious. "You are different."  
  
Voldemort smiled barely, a slight humorous upturn of his lips. "This is my true self. Thanks to you, my pet--- my precious, I am again myself." Throughout the entire conversation, he had slowly moved closer to his bond- mate though never rushing his approach. It wouldn't do to scare the young man, not when he wanted Harry to trust him inexplicably. And with that trust, he'd mold Harry into the perfect pet, serving and adoring. What more could be asked? Precious little, he concluded as his eyes feasted on the raven boy's loveliness.  
  
Too much to process in such a short time period, Harry thought--- he thought with overriding uneasiness. But he found that as much as he wanted to draw away from everything and hide himself away, he was also magnetically compelled to stay where he stood as Voldemort came closer to him. When the man--- his master, a voice whispered in his head--- reached to touch his cheek he actually felt himself lean into the gentle caress. It was like he needed the physical closeness, how alarming.  
  
Interesting how his pet drew closer to his touch, Voldemort noticed with veiled pleasure. It pleased him greatly that the skin was even softer than he remembered, much like the finest silk. His crimson eyes met the emerald orbs and challenged his bond-mate to even dare to look away from the drowning force connecting them. Not that Harry could, even if he wanted to since he was holding his pet's gaze to him to let him understand that he controlled him. No matter what Harry might want to do, he could not ignore the power Voldemort had on him. That he wanted to make clear to his pet.  
  
He could not lift his eyes away; he could not draw his gaze from the compelling wizard. It wasn't that he wanted to, but that he felt the undeniable compulsion to try. Yet he couldn't, no matter how hard he attempted to. His will was not his own for he felt the invisible thread that kept pulling his entire consciousness to the man standing in front of him. This man was his master, just like the little voice inside of him had said. Voldemort was his master.  
  
It was dawning on Harry, Voldemort saw quite obviously from the expressive array of emotions that passed over the young man's face. Everything from perplexity to apprehension to bewilderment and much more was reflected on his bond-mate as he came to the realization the power he held over him. He supposed it must an awful shock to reach the epiphany that your actions could be commanded by another.  
  
"You are mine," he whispered delicately but not without possession. His fingers curled under Harry's chin and held the firm jaw in his gentle grip. "Mine," he echoed once more before he gave into temptation and covered the remaining distance needed for him to claim the sweet lips as his own once more.  
  
It was different kissing Harry when he actually had lips instead of just an opening for him to feed on the food that was necessary to replenish his strength. It was infinitely more enjoyable, he noted, and it stimulated his senses far more. It was with distinct pleasure that he realized the fire that had been flickering in his groin had fully erupted into full blown raging lust. Coaxing his pet's lips to open, he slipped his tongue in to begin his assault on Harry's intoxicating innocence.  
  
Mind boggling and saccharine sweetness was all Harry could think of as he melted under the skillful manipulations of Voldemort. Unlike his first kiss, was that his first kiss? He really didn't know, and theoretically it was his first kiss that he remembered. anyway, it wasn't like the first one at all. That one had been about possessing him; this one was about seducing him. Seducing him it was.  
  
Even if he had wanted to pull away from the kiss, he was too lightheaded to do so and it had nothing to do with the weakness that he had felt before. This was purely because of Voldemort, because of the man snogging the very breath out of him. If he hadn't been pressed against the wall and held up by the arm that had snaked around his waist, he would have crumbled down to the ground. He felt that weak kneed.  
  
Alarm broke into his mind like a fresh wave of awareness from the desire that was addling his senses when he felt Voldemort push his legs apart and press the definition of his arousal against his inner thigh. This was not right, his mind was screaming to him, he was not ready. The problem was that he couldn't fight Voldemort, all he could do was whimper and try to pull away from the drowning enticement.  
  
Lucky for Harry, Voldemort had decided that the kiss had to be stopped before it led to other activities that his bond-mate wasn't ready for. Even if he was looking a lot healthier and brighter, Voldemort concluded, it would not be wise to push too much physical activity onto the boy when he was still recuperating. No there was more than enough time to do whatever he wanted to do to his Harry. And when he took, he wanted to take not only his sweet innocence away but drain him at the same time. What an ecstasy that would be.  
  
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Author's Note: I finally introduce Harry's POV. It will be equally split between Harry/Voldemort now, though Lucius will have a huge role as well. I did say there'd be HP/LM, which is introduced in the next chapter. So thoughts on Harry? He's not weak, but being the Slytherin that he is. he's checking out the situation before making any move. He's not weak. How's Voldemort? HP/LV interaction? BTW, this is my least popular WIP--- thus I update and write less ;p. I'm still writing it though, no worries just don't expect updates every week. This will probably be every other week.  
  
Thanks to Renee Fay (Sev/Harry were in a relationship), Karaberos (hopefully), tamz, tati, Lolita, Party Girl, Quickjewel, Queen of Vegetasei (I'm not a smut writer, we'll see about SM ;p), MP, Yxonomei, lil kawaii doom, Tempest.  
  
ntamara: There needs to be a precedent, Harry w/ older men. Bella takes a backstage a bit in the future chapter, but she's still there. Don't forget her.  
  
Malakai: Lucius is a bastard, he is he is! Severus' still wily, I wouldn't underestimate him he may just turn on you ;p. Harry might be submissive, but Voldemort does -need- him. Severus isn't a masochist, remember everything is in Lucius' POV. Besides it's all about consent/control.  
  
Abraxis: Very true, he may have some sort of feeling but it's not love. It may get there, it may not. I think Harry's the only one naïve/innocent enough to truly fall in love in this story. And I agree, they are underestimating Severus. 


	6. Teaching

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
Thanks to my fan-BLOODY-tastic beta-reader, SERRA!  
  
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I wake up  
  
I don't know who I am  
  
It's all lost  
  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
  
Not anymore, it's gone  
  
Gone away  
  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
  
Attempting to get there  
  
Where is there?  
  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
  
Wish I could remember  
  
But I don't  
  
The memories are gone  
  
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Note: There has been an important change to this chapter, even if it is only 1 word. Harry and Severus were never lovers. Harry thinks of Severus as a very good friend and mentor, and remember all Severus' thoughts of Harry are in his POV. He thinks more deeply of Harry than Harry does of him. Hope that clarifies a few issues. I write this as I go, which means there will be storyline changes.  
  
6: Teaching (July 28, 2003 to July 31, 2003)  
  
For one week, he kept his pet away from anyone else. Isolated and without anyone but himself. It was a cunning mechanism to make Harry even more dependent on him than he already was. So for 7 days, he knew no one but Voldemort. In that way, it re-enforced what Harry only knew already. It was brilliant and manipulative; it suited Voldemort perfectly. He wasn't foolhardy; he wanted Harry's trust explicitly. He had it on the virtue of memory alone, but he wanted it by Harry's own consent too. And he had it. It took only a few days.  
  
He also acknowledged that grooming Harry was not something only he could do. While he enjoyed the sweetness of Harry's innocence, it frustrated him into levels he could not keep back his cutting remarks. Whoever had made the spell had made it very specific. It was truly an ingenuous spell. Remarkable really. Harry remembered enough to get around, but their were things that needed to be re-taught.  
  
Some memories, like of casting magic couldn't be guaranteed. At least, Harry knew he was a wizard though he hadn't quite grasped how he was to say certain spells. It probably didn't help that he was still magically weak which was why he didn't feel like he could do the spells. He couldn't from the lack of magical power he could pull at. One day, when Voldemort felt like he could trust his bond-mate, maybe he would teach him how to pull some magic from himself. They were connected after all.  
  
Until that day came, there were other things that had to be taught. Brushing up Harry's memories of magic were quite necessary and he certainly didn't have the time to do it. He was sure that Lucius would be more than delighted to instruct his young charge. No doubt on that. He smiled with that sudden idea. He didn't doubt that Lucius would try to sway Harry, but he knew that Harry was loyal only to him. And besides, it wasn't like he was allowing Harry to be alone with Lucius. No, that was too dangerous. Bella would be there too.  
  
Even if she was weaker, she was still one of his stronger Death Eaters and undoubtedly the most faithful. She might not have liked Harry much, he thought darkly with amusement, but she was growing to like that Harry gave her Master strength. She could learn to live with Harry as long as was merely a power source. He shrugged at that obvious deduction, Bella still needed to learn her place. She knew she wasn't his equal, but she needed to know that she was not his pet. Harry was.  
  
Harry. The thought of his name brought his crimson eyes off the paperwork he was currently staring at to the sweet form that laid on his bed. Raven hair, sinewy body, toned legs. Simply gorgeous. He smiled and was not surprised to find that his pet's brilliant emerald eyes were appraising him. He knew that Harry often studied him while he was working, especially when he was reading. Who didn't like being admired? He certainly didn't.  
  
Whenever those innocent eyes rested on him, he felt a tingle of warmth spread over his body. At first it had alarmed him, but he dismissed it as his body's base craving for physical pleasure. After all, it had been denied from him for years--- it was only natural to want to sink into Harry's tight virginity. A dark thought crushed his lighthearted assessment of Harry. Was Harry still innocent in all ways? He remembered Severus' insatiability very well. Had Severus touched what was his?  
  
He had better not if he wanted to live. It'd be a shame to kill him after all the time that Lucius had devoted to remolding the traitorous piece of scum. Bastard. The whole lot of them. Such a damn pity that he needed them, and he would indisputably continue to need Severus. His revival potions had worked a miracle for his bond-mate, his Harry. He needed the potions for Harry; therefore, he needed Severus. If only there was another Potions Master that was as good as Severus; unfortunately, there wasn't.  
  
Severus needed to understand that Harry was his. No one else's but his. Anything that he claimed, no else could. His eyes darkened with the ferocity of his emotions. Nothing could calm him, nothing--- well, Harry could. "You work too hard," Harry commented, standing up from the bed clothed in only silk silver boxers that only emphasized his tanned magnificence. "It's time for bed."  
  
Harry's voice was pure honey and ten times more enticing. Voldemort glanced at the clock that resided at the far corner of the room. Harry was right, it was time for bed. Too bad, he thought with heavy disappointment that Harry still wasn't quite healthy enough for too much physical exertion. But it wasn't bad to hold the beautiful boy in his arms. It felt too sentimental for him yet it was one sentimentality that he allowed himself.  
  
He let Harry pull him out of his chair and guide him to bed. He wasn't tired, but he didn't have a problem with closing his eyes when Harry wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on his chest. Such trust in one no one should trust. It almost made him believe in the beauty of life again. Too bad that he knew the truth of it, that life was tainted and corrupted. Part of it had been done by him. Bloody life. He closed his eyes, it felt good to rest with such sweetness.  
  
Harry knew the moment that Voldemort had fallen asleep. Slowly he untangled his limbs from his Master with special care not to wake him up. He sat at the edge of the bed, the silhouette of the moon flooding his reflective face. He knew precisely what Voldemort was working on. Plans for death, destruction, and devastation. It bothered him, and he didn't really quite know why. It disturbed him. He didn't like it; he didn't want to accept it. But what choice did he have?  
  
He had no one but Voldemort. And despite all the horrors and terrors that he was the source of, Harry didn't want to be parted from his bonded. No, it would be too painful. He turned his face and studied the sleeping form of the darkly handsome older man next to him. When he was asleep, Harry almost saw the potential goodness in him. However, he knew that Voldemort would never be good, and if he wanted to stay with Voldemort he would have to learn to harden his heart. Or he'd go crazy with the guilt-ridden knowledge.  
  
Decisions had to be made. Still, what other direction could he turn? There was no one else he knew other than Voldemort. And really it wasn't so bad to be his bond-mate, his pet. There were worse situations than being looked after and cared for. At least here, he was cherished and if not loved--- possessed by intense feelings. That was enough. One could not ask for more than what he had..  
  
~  
  
All good things must come to an end. Voldemort studied the raven hair beauty that was draped in a sleepy sprawl over his lean body. Such trust given to man that most people feared to look in the eye, that most were afraid to speak his name. He sighed inside, it was time for his pet to know others besides him. It was time to reintroduce Harry back into the world. As much as he wanted to keep Harry in a cage of oblivion, he knew if Harry was to prove the ultimate weapon that he would have to be integrated back into society.  
  
It simply would not do for his greatest gain to be remain too innocent. Too untouched by the corruption of life. Yet, he thought in Harry's own way, he would remain oblivious to the ugliest images of life. That was the way that Harry was, unable to accept and that gave him no choice but to ignore it and move on. What choice did he have? There was no one else that meant anything to him but himself.  
  
He smiled briefly. Brilliant plan, ingenuous really. He'd finally gotten the upper hand on that old coot, Dumbledore. His eyes narrowed as he thought of how Dumbledore had foiled his plans time and time again with a mere boy! Well, time to turn his tricks on himself. What would the Headmaster of Hogwarts do now when he realized that his own weapon was being used against him? The ironic justice of it.  
  
"Wake up, my pet," he murmured softly, smoothing away the hair that threatened to cover those brilliant emerald eyes. When Harry started to stir, rubbing his delicious body in all the right ways to get a rise out of him. Did his pet know how delectable he was when he stretched like he did in the mornings? Maybe he did, but Voldemort wasn't certain of that fact. His bond-mate was awfully innocent in most things. Perhaps he didn't know.  
  
Like every morning since the first, Harry stretched delightfully against him. It was temptation at its worse, not that Voldemort was going to tell him to stop. It may have been a slight torture, but it wasn't anything to complain about. The sensory nerves that Harry hit when he did his cat act ignited an overload of sensations that Voldemort had long ago thought he had lost. Truly a blessing in disguise to find out that that was not the case.  
  
When Harry had finished his daily ritual, he turned to Voldemort and smiled sleepily. "Spell me?" he asked with a slight yawn, pointing to his mouth at the same time. He always asked for this, ever since Voldemort had spelled his breath clean the first morning they had spent together. Voldemort complied by tracing his finger on Harry's luscious lips and murmuring the cleaning charm. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," Voldemort murmured back delicately, reaching with his hands to caress his pet's beautiful face. He let his finger linger downwards, trailing down Harry's throat to his chest and finally rested over his naval just above his boxers. "Get dress, my pet. I've a full day scheduled for you."  
  
There was no questioning challenge in Harry's eyes, something that Voldemort wistfully missed from the old Harry. But he knew it was better that this new Harry wasn't as stubborn as the old Harry, this Harry did all that he asked without complaint. It was wonderful in a way, yet at the same time he missed the old defiant Harry's spirit. This Harry was entirely too compliant, though he did see brief flashes of the old Harry--- the Harry that had defied and denied him.  
  
It was still there, hiding inside. Voldemort only had to figure out how to unlock without betraying the powerful hold over Harry that he had. He wanted his pet spirited, but wise enough to know when was the right time to back down. He wanted a perfect Harry for him, too bad nothing was perfect.  
  
~  
  
They were being called. Lucius smiled, though he frowned inside that Bella was coming with him. It was time. But why did she have to part of it as well? Oh well. It was tolerable, he'd make sure that she didn't get the upper hand. After all, who was he if not a Malfoy? Manipulation was ingrained into the family code of conduct. It didn't have to be taught; it was intimately a part of their psyche.  
  
He allowed Bella to knock on the door to Voldemort's private chambers. Why not? It gave her the job of announcing their arrival, and it was below him to pronounce Bella's presence. He still didn't know how his cold blooded wife had been related as closely as she was to the passionate Bellatrix. It didn't make sense. They were as different as fire and ice. He didn't know who he preferred, Narcissa's chilliness or Bella's fieriness. He did admit Bella was a shade too volatile for him. However Voldemort controlled her, he did a marvelous job.  
  
The door flew open and Voldemort commanded them to enter. They had no choice but to enter, not that they didn't want to. Lucius did think it'd be nice to actually be given the freedom to choose, but that was not Voldemort's favored thing to do. Voldemort liked to dominate openly, a true difference between their methods. He didn't mind ruling behind the scenes by subterfuge or black mail. The Dark Lord was a good deal more honorable than he was. It was almost humorous.  
  
They stepped into the room, and Lucius didn't know what he expected to see but certainly not what he saw. The Dark Lord was sitting down at his desk while his bond-mate lounged seductively on the coverlet. Temptation much? Yes, very much. Lucius felt a shooting warmth hit his groin pleasurably. Who would have thought that the Boy Who Lived could ever look this enticing?  
  
His dark hair was forever tousled, only adding to the tempting image he made resting on his side dressed in a white shirt that was only buttoned in the middle. The rest of the shirt opened up, showcasing his tanned muscular chest. What made the picture even better were the black leather pants that encased his legs like second skin. The Boy Who Lived was not a boy any longer, Lucius surmised with a studied inspection, but rather a young man if the bulge that Harry sported was any indication.  
  
Maybe it wasn't going to be a hardship to teach the Dark Lord's pet. Not when he could add seduction to his methods of securing the boy's favor. It only helped his case that the boy didn't remember who he was. No known animosity that was guaranteed since he'd tried to kill the boy. He didn't doubt his ability to persuade. It would be no competition over this Bella, over the old Bella maybe. She had had her powers of persuasion, but she more than a tad too unstable to put them into full use like she had before. Another additional benefit, he enjoyed.  
  
"My Lord," Lucius greeted, bowing submissively to the Dark Lord though refusing to go down to his knees. Only under the pains of the Cruciatus Curse did he ever bow to him and he knew that Voldemort knew that. But he thought that Voldemort rather liked that he wasn't entirely like Bella. It did give the Dark Lord a second opinion that differed greatly from Bella's blind devotion. His views were a great deal more insightful than hers had ever been. "I am here to serve you as you wish."  
  
Voldemort nodded and gestured for Harry to get off of the bed. "My pet," he began with a veiled affectionate tone usually reserved only for Bella, "needs to be reminded of magic. I place his instruction in both of your capable hands." He favored Bella with one of those precious looks she savored and she preened like a lovesick puppy. Despicable, Lucius thought. "However," Voldemort continued, "as Lucius has had experienced with children before, I place the expectations of teaching in your hands. Bella, you are to supervise and lend what advice you may and to report your viewpoints on Lucius' methods."  
  
With a slightly subdued but still triumphant look on her face she acquiesced to her Master's instructions. "I will do what you ask of me, my Lord."  
  
"As will I," Lucius added, his eyes flicker over to Harry briefly before meeting the crimson eyes again.  
  
Voldemort noticed the look, but didn't say anything. He trusted his bond- mate as much as he could trust anyone since Harry couldn't lie to him. He was incapable of it. Only the truth could be spoken between them, that was their agreement. Both were honorable, thus it was binding. He didn't trust Lucius, only trusting Lucius to do what was best for his agenda--- which currently coincided with what was best with their agenda. It would do for now. And Bella, Bella was too unbalanced to be fully trusted.  
  
"Go with them Harry," he told his bond-mate gently. Harry complied, getting out of the bed gracefully and moving over to where Lucius and Bella were standing near the doorway. "Don't forget your wand," he reminded him.  
  
Harry smiled at him gratefully and backtracked to grab his wand off the top of the marble counter. He'd only been given his wand a few days ago, and he found it hard to remember to always carry it around with him. Voldemort had to keep reminding that it was important that he always had it with him, for his protection. "I'm ready."  
  
"Yes," Lucius agreed smoothly, "if you will follow after Bella and me, Mr. Potter."  
  
~  
  
This was better than Lucius had hoped for. He basically had free rein to do whatever he wished, only limited by the feedback Bella would no doubt be giving to their Dark Lord. He'd find a way around it; he'd make sure she wasn't with them in all their lessons. He was sure he could find a way to be able to spend private time with Harry. It was only a matter of time and a matter of careful calculation. His specialty.  
  
"How much do you remember about being a wizard?" Lucius asked amiably, gesturing for the young man to take a seat in one of the comfortable leather chairs that graced the study that Voldemort had lent him to instruct Harry. He knew the imperative details, that Harry's memories had been effectively erased from his mind. But he knew also that Harry still had to recall something of this world. How much was the question. "Bellatrix and I need to know what we need to re-teach you."  
  
Bella narrowed her eyes and settled into the chair across from where Lucius and Harry were sitting, but she said nothing. Harry's eyes flickered back from Lucius to Bella before settling on the entrancing warmth he saw in Lucius's steel gray eyes. So different from Voldemort's. "I know that I'm a wizard," Harry began thoughtfully. "And I know that a wand is the medium where magic is conducted, but I can't quite remember all the spells or charms that I should know."  
  
"Which ones do you remember?" Lucius inquired kindly. Good, Harry was looking at him and not Bella. He almost grinned evilly at the thought, but that would ruin the caring and considerate façade he was maintaining. First, get the trust then show more of his true colors. He doubted Harry would mind, after all he was nothing compared to the Dark Lord.  
  
Furrowing his forehead with wrinkles, Harry dug into his brain to try to pull out what he remembered. It was hard since he only could remember stuff he'd read about, but not stuff that he had actually done. Thus, he could recall a good deal of magical theory; however, he could not recall the practical uses of such said theory. That was what he told Lucius. "I know about magic, I just don't know about how to perform magic."  
  
He certainly had a strong theoretical background in magic, Lucius thought with surprise. It was probably even better than his son's own magical theory background, and that was no easy feat considering the enormous texts that were hidden away at the Malfoy mansion. Yet as good as Harry's theory background was, magic was made to be practiced not merely to be theorized about. "Then," Lucius remarked silkily, "we will have to practice the theory that is trapped within your mind, won't we, Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry smiled sweetly and nodded. "Please call me Harry."  
  
"And you may call me, Lucius."  
  
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Author's Note: This story has taken a back seat to MOP and WAD. MOP will be introducing Voldemort soon if you need LV's fix while I try to finish WAD first. So how did you like the LV/HP interaction? I did say it was going to LM/HP, and here's the beginning seeds of it.  
  
Thanks to Kateri1, Tempest8, Queen of Vegetasei, Karaberos, Yxonomei, Renee Fay, Party Girl2, Quickjewel, and Kuhara. 


	7. Influencing

Title: In the Absence of Memory  
  
Author: Yih  
  
Disclaimer: All characters & original universe belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
Spoiler Warning: There are spoilers of OotP in this fanfic. They are embedded into the fanfic. I won't tell you which are spoilers and which aren't, but readers that haven't read OotP should be aware that they are in the fanfic.  
  
Thanks to my fan-BLOODY-tastic beta-reader, SERRA!  
  
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I wake up  
  
I don't know who I am  
  
It's all lost  
  
Those memories of me  
  
Nothing's there  
  
Not anymore, it's gone  
  
Gone away  
  
To a place, far away  
  
I run hard  
  
Attempting to get there  
  
Where is there?  
  
I don't know, I don't know  
  
Wish I did  
  
Wish I could remember  
  
But I don't  
  
The memories are gone  
  
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7: Influencing (August 24, 2003 to August 26, 2003)  
  
Lucius was pleased. He was beyond pleased. Bella was not. She was definitely not happy with the way things were going. She knew better than to question her Lord's orders, but this was getting out of hand. If the Dark Lord wasn't careful, he could find himself being out manipulated by--- by a Malfoy! And of course if there was a Malfoy that knew how to manipulate, it was Lucius.  
  
Things were going precisely how he wanted them to go. Harry really didn't remember anything, he actually thought that Lucius was a trusted mentor. Lucius was impressed despite himself at Voldemort's skill in pulling off one of the Forbidden spells. He didn't think even Albus Dumbledore was capable of it. His Lord really was the most powerful wizard in the world.  
  
Most powerful indeed, but he had a weakness now. Harry Potter. Lucius was going to use that to his advantage. Unlike an internal weakness, this external one could be used against him by the virtue of having a mind that made choices. All Lucius had to do was be careful in his subtle handling of Harry. He needed Harry on his side, but he had to go about it cautiously. Drawing too much unnecessary attention wouldn't do him any good. No, no good at all.  
  
"Lucius?" came Harry's sweet voice from the corridors outside of his room. He was punctual like always. Had it really only been a month since he'd started re-teaching the practical application of magic? It seemed so short. Despite himself, he had grown to enjoy Harry's pure company. It was a change from having to keep his mind so utterly focused on the machinations of his peers. "Are you there?"  
  
"I'm here," Lucius called out. Harry really was too innocent for his own good. Did he not see that everyone around him was using him? If the golden Gryffindor had been too naïve before his memory loss, he was even more so now. Of course, maybe it was all an act to make them all underestimate him. It was hard to imagine Harry being that cunning though.  
  
When Harry walked into the room, Lucius was greeted with a brilliant smile from his pupil's lips. "Good afternoon, Lucius," Harry said with infectious friendliness. "Do you want me to start where we left off yesterday?"  
  
"Yes," Lucius responded, gesturing for Harry to go and retrieve the books he'd left open yesterday from researching the methods of a glamour charm. In the month they'd been meeting, Harry had gone through a load of spells and was now working on stuff within his level of advancement. Truly remarkable, it almost terrified Lucius to know what Voldemort would be capable with Harry at his side.  
  
Almost being the keyword. He wasn't frightened as long as he could get Harry to trust in him as well. Even though Voldemort was controlling Harry, there was something noble about him still. Most didn't notice it, but he did and he was certain that Bellatrix did. Voldemort might still be the most powerful Dark Lord since Grindelwald, but Harry was influencing him as much as he was influencing Harry.  
  
A trade-off from the bond, no doubt. What was becoming urgent was who would be able to influence Harry. Bellatrix was trying, Lucius gave her that, but she wasn't succeeding. She could force a façade on her face that failed to transition to her eyes. That was crucial, and Harry was perceptive enough not to miss the venom spitting out of her black eyes.  
  
Too bad for Bellatrix. He, on the other hand, felt that he was more than getting Harry's trust and by getting that was wielding a possibly significant authority over Harry. Authority that was understated, but it didn't matter as long as it was there. He'd taken anything he was given, and he figured it was only a matter of time before he got more.  
  
His job was made easier by the fact that Harry was an attentive and good student. At first Lucius had been afraid that Severus' early spiteful words about Harry would prove true, luckily they hadn't. Then again, Severus had always hated James Potter so it was understandable that the hatred would translate over to the son. The only curious thing was that such intense dislike had blossomed into something rather on the opposite end of the stratosphere.  
  
Severus had grown to like and care about the young man. It wasn't hard. Lucius certainly understood why. Even the Dark Lord had fallen into that feeling. Lucius was afraid he was about to do the same. It was hard being totally apathetic to someone that was so trusting. Someone that was so earnest. It didn't help either that Harry was gorgeous.  
  
Lucius had figured out pretty darn soon that he was drawn to Harry not only in the power addictive way but from physical attraction as well. No wonder Voldemort had been so possessive of Harry early on. Even those of the Death Eater ranks that weren't drawn to same gender would have a hard time turning away from Harry's powerful aura. Lucius knew he had a hard time.  
  
"Lucius," Harry called out as he waved his wand over a black book that he was trying to glamour to look crimson, "I'm having difficulty making the black book look red."  
  
"That would be because black is a hard color to glamour over since it's so dark," Lucius explained patiently. "If you tried to glamour red over a white book than it would be very easy. Remember this is not like transfiguration, which you are very good at manipulating. This is a charms based spell. You aren't shifting the components of anything, just shifting the components of the air around the object to make it look different without truly changing it. It's useful since it takes less magical energy that transfiguration."  
  
"And it also can be used to changed a person's appearances with your own spells without having to learn to become an animagus," Lucius remarked. "It's very useful at times like when something is untidy and you can't get to it, so you cover it. However, the problem with glamour charms is that they are usually easily detected. Very good glamour spells are just as hard as transfiguration, it takes a great grasp on the magical theory even if it takes less magical energy."  
  
Harry nodded that he understood and took a light khaki colored textbook off the shelf. "Will this work?" he questioned for confirmation. When Lucius nodded, Harry placed the book down on the table and began to wave his wand. Whispering the spell's incantation carefully, Harry's face broke out into an expression of exultation when he changed the outer appearance of the book from the khaki to a dark crimson.  
  
It struck Lucius how strikingly similar the blood red was to shade of Voldemort's eyes. It was an exact replica wasn't merely a coincidence, Voldemort had really done a real piece of work with remolding Harry Potter. Not only had he tapped into one of the most powerful wizards of the century as a power source, he'd also managed to get intimately involved with Harry.  
  
That was another thing that he had to give Voldemort for his brilliance. To actually have someone as sweet as Harry and as innocent as he was, was not something that came around often. Voldemort was going to be able to train Harry into perfect sexual pet. If he was willing as he seemed to be, it'd be all that much more delicious of a flavor. Force was nice on occasion, but melting the resistance of someone until they were burning for your touch was much more satisfying.  
  
"Oh!" Harry exclaimed as he placed his wand back down on the table. "It's getting late! I forgot that I'm suppose to meet him."  
  
It struck Lucius as a bit strange how Harry never called Voldemort by his name, that he never really referred to Voldemort really directly. Voldemort was quite the opposite case. Sometimes it made him curious of the Dark Lord's real hold on his pet, though there was no doubt that Harry could be drained by Voldemort. That had been demonstrated quite clearly during the Forbidden spell.  
  
If it had been hard enough to think about toppling the Dark Lord before, it was impossible to think of now. Lucius couldn't think of the last time that a Forbidden spell had been performed successfully. No time in recent modern history. It didn't matter that Voldemort had used draining Harry's magical energy to help him, he'd done it hadn't he?  
  
No, no one was going to dare challenge Voldemort directly anymore. Challenging him indirectly was an option, and getting to him through Harry was certainly an intriguing option. Harry was going to be influential, all the Death Eaters were aware of the fact even if they weren't talking about it. Why else would Bellatrix try to be nice to someone other than her precious Dark Lord?  
  
"I have to go, Lucius," Harry mumbled, looking a bit flustered and flushed. "He's expecting me."  
  
"Then you'd better go," Lucius responded smoothly. "You wouldn't want to keep the Dark Lord waiting, would you? He is rather possessive of you."  
  
Harry smiled with an innocent shyness that was pleasantly becoming. "I'll see you next time, Lucius?"  
  
Lucius nodded. "You'll see me next time. Have a good night, Harry."  
  
"I will."  
  
Perfect, Lucius thought when Harry walked out of the room. Everything was moving to schedule. Harry was already beginning to trust him. What was even more important was that Harry looked forward to their sessions. Wanting to see someone again usually translated into growing to trust that person more[,] which was precisely what Lucius wanted. He wanted Harry to trust him; he wanted Harry to need him. But that would come eventually.  
  
He was patient. He could bide his time. As long as he was the influencing factor with Harry, everything was going to be all right. He didn't plan to let anyone else have the chance. No, he was going to be the influence, that much he setting out for. Malfoys didn't lose either. They always got what they wanted. It was the Malfoy way.  
  
~  
  
"Come to me," Voldemort called to Harry when he heard his pet try to slip into the room quietly. He knew Harry had been trying not to disturb him, but didn't he realize that he didn't mind his bond-mate interrupting his work. When he saw the hesitation in Harry, his voice was no longer lenient but demanding, "Come here now."  
  
It pleased him when Harry came to him immediately. Then again as he thought harder on it--- he didn't really know if Harry was listening to him because he wanted to or if it was because of the bond. He really wasn't sure if Harry could disobey a direct order from him. It wasn't like Harry had even tried, or had he? That was something he'd have to find out soon.  
  
And if he was too dominating, he'd lose the hidden spirit he had the feeling was still hiding within Harry. The problem was that while he might appreciate the spirit, to his Death Eaters if Harry showed such defiance--- it would make him seem weak. He couldn't have that. "Sit down my pet," he murmured in a more gentle tone, resting his hand on his lap to signal where he wanted Harry to sit.  
  
Once Harry had settled down onto his lap, he snaked his arm around Harry's waist possessively. "Did you enjoy your lessons with Lucius today?" he questioned with mild curiosity. "You do prefer Lucius to instruct you rather than Bella, am I right?"  
  
"I do," Harry responded softly. "I just get this weird feeling when I'm around Bella."  
  
No doubt that he did, Voldemort thought with mild irritation at his loyal Bellatrix. Her ferocity was sometimes misguided, even more so now after her episode at Azkaban. But the years away from the prison should have cured her paranoia, it had yet to do so. In fact, he suspected that she was getting worse. That sort of thing tended to happen when people got older. He despised that.  
  
Closed minds were a great hindrance. "So how was the lesson?" he asked more specifically, trying to draw Harry out of the shell he had the tendency in staying in.  
  
"It was very good," Harry answered with much more enthusiasm, more life. "Lucius explained me to more about glamour charms. I never knew that they were as complex as they are. However, the book that covers most magical theory only devoted a small section to that particular subject."  
  
"Are you interested in knowing more theory on glamour spells?"  
  
Harry shrugged lightly. "There isn't much to do around here," he remarked, his face paling a bit when he realized he'd complained about something. It was the first time he hadn't been careful with his choice of words around Voldemort. He always was because even though he knew he was important to his bond-mate, he knew that the Dark Lord wasn't above punishing him for an infraction.  
  
"That's true," Voldemort agreed, drawing a stunned expression from his Harry. He almost cracked a grin at the shocked look on Harry's face, didn't Harry know that he knew everything that went on about him? That the only reason that Severus was still breathing was that he knew that Harry had no strong feelings for the Potions Master.  
  
It'd taken him a bit of time for him to realize that he held all of Harry's 18 years of life. Short compared to him, but a lot had happened to Harry in his short lifetime. Truly, it was magnificent to compare Harry's life with even his own--- and his had been rather loaded he'd thought in the first 18 years. But nothing compared to Harry's packed life experiences.  
  
No wonder it'd been hard for him to remember that he did have all of Harry's memories compacted with his own vast memories, most of them acquired after his 18th birthday as Lord Voldemort. Eventually, remember he did. Search through the pile of memories he did. It was strange, to draw from the memory bank that he knew was Harry. He knew it was Harry's memories but it almost felt like they his own. In a way, they were his now.  
  
He had drawn them out of Harry, forced them out of his bond-mate so that he would be able to absolutely the most important person in Harry's new existence. It had worked brilliantly, even better than he'd expected. In doing so, he had Harry's whole being within him. Searching as he had through Harry's mind within his mind, he had discovered nothing out of the norm.  
  
True, as unusual as it seemed for Harry and Severus to get closer--- there was nothing to suggest what Lucius had been hinting at. That Severus and Harry had been more than just teacher and student. Perhaps, Severus had wanted to be more than teacher to Harry but Harry had never given the slightest signal of encouragement and that was what mattered to Voldemort. He didn't mind Severus lusting over Harry, as long as Harry was undeniably his. What he considered his possession was unquestionably his.  
  
"Perhaps," Voldemort began casually, knowing that Harry had never enjoyed potion making, "you might like to hang around with Severus Snape with supervision of course since he is a dangerous wizard and learn the art of potion making from him?"  
  
"I suppose," Harry replied with no attempt to hide his reluctance. He'd made it quite clear to Harry that he preferred honesty. Lies would only make things much worse. "If there is nothing else that would ease the boredom."  
  
Voldemort allowed his lips to curve up ever so slightly. Just as he thoughts, some things never changed. It was no wonder Harry was enamored with his lessons with Lucius. Lucius focused on the subject manner that most intrigued his pet, Transfiguration and Charms. "Or you could always join me in my private study when I'm working on new spells."  
  
"New spells?" Harry murmured, his eyes lighting up in excitement. "Truly, you're working with new spells? But I've heard that they're extremely difficult to create--- new spells that is. To create something from scratch requires a great grasp of magical theory and powerful magic."  
  
"That is why I need your help," Voldemort responded with a heavy emphasis that he needed Harry's assistance. "You realize that," he began in an strongly intimate voice as he tilted his face closer to Harry's own, "when I drain you, I'll have all the power that I need to create any spell anyway that I want. My grasp in magical theory has always been superior to anyone. But no wizard truly holds enough power in them to create without tiring. You give me the chance to make spells and modify them immediately rather than having to wait."  
  
"And forgetting exactly what you wanted to alter," Harry added in finality.  
  
"Precisely," Voldemort remarked, his crimson eyes glowing into Harry's emerald orbs. "Do you understand, my pet?"  
  
Harry nodded. "I do." He rested his forehead on Voldemort's shoulder in a manner suggesting the closeness that Voldemort wanted ingrained into Harry. "When can we start?"  
  
"When would you like?" Voldemort asked nonchalantly.  
  
"Tomorrow?"  
  
"Tomorrow it will be."  
  
Harry smiled, and then he frowned as something struck him. "Are you going to keep Snape down there forever?"  
  
"He is a traitor," Voldemort responded sharply and coldly. "He will remain down there as long as I see fit, even if that means for the rest of eternity."  
  
"But he did help me," Harry commented softly.  
  
That was true, but Voldemort wasn't willing to risk letting Severus have more freedom. As it was as Severus had been treating Harry, even though he'd scoured Harry's memories and found nothing to suggest anything more than what was suppose to be, he'd seen Severus' gentleness in handling Harry. It spoke of intimacy, or at least the call for more intimacy. That Voldemort was not going to allow.  
  
To give Severus more freedom would be inviting Severus to pursue Harry. Lucius' pursuit of Harry he knew would fail miserably. That was why he was not that concern. Lucius didn't have quite the right kind of spirit to draw Harry. Voldemort was afraid that Severus did. He had seen the way Harry had involuntarily responded to Severus' touch. He would not allow any more of it.  
  
Harry was his. Harry was going to stay his. No matter what. It didn't matter that he lacked Severus' tenderness or his warmth or his gentleness--- all of that didn't matter. Harry was his bond-mate; Harry was going to stay his bond-mate. He hadn't done that ridiculously difficult spell for someone else to be more important to Harry than he was. He'd made himself the most important and he was going to stay the most important.  
  
Whether Harry knew it or not, Harry was his.  
  
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Author's Note: Don't really know why I wrote this chapter. I didn't intend to write another one for months, but hey my muse popped in and I wrote this. Hope that you like this chapter. And please be aware of the Author's Note I've inserted into chapter 6. You should read that. It might clear up any confusion of the hint of HP/SS  
  
Thanks to xenelle, Karaberos, FallenPhoenix721, Yxonomei, Party Girl2, ntamara, Tempest8, LauraJo, Kathy stggvk, Carya.  
  
Abraxis: There is a catch to it. That Harry could be passively influencing Voldemort since Voldemort has all Harry's memories.  
  
Malakai: Well, I do very well in Lucius. It's hard to do LM/HP especially after Book 5, but almost every pairing is harder except HP/SS actually. 


	8. Inventing

Title: **In the Absence of Memory**

Author: Yih

Disclaimer: All characters are JK Rowling.

Beta: The _magnificent_ Serra. 

~

8: Inventing (October 12, 2003 to October 13, 2003)

He rocked back and forth.  He rocked forth and back.  He shivered and he shuddered.  He shuddered and he shivered.  What was he going to do?  Locked with his mind, his memories had to be there, yet he knew nothing of his past.  He didn't even remember doing magic, something he had to have been doing for most of his life.  Nothing.  He was nothing without Voldemort.

It was intensely frightening.  Thank Merlin his bond-mate was nothing like Bellatrix Lestrange.  That witch was unstable and insane.  He knew that she was trying to be nice to him, but forcing herself to be only made the madness in her eyes glow more brightly.  He was glad that his bond-mate wasn't going to force him to be instructed by her anymore.  He far preferred Lucius.  

Was it so bad that he didn't remember?  He glanced down at his bond-mate, and he wasn't certain.  He wasn't unhappy, and yet he didn't feel like he could truly be happy unless he remembered fully what he was missing.  It wasn't like he was really himself.  He didn't know how to separate what he knew of Voldemort from what he knew was of himself.  

Where did he begin and where did Voldemort end?  

He didn't know.  The answer eluded him just like the memories of who he had been escaped him.  Tears filled his eyes and trailed down his cheeks.  There were times when he felt absolutely alone; there were times when all he wanted to do was to let go of life.  How could he live when he didn't know who he was?  

At least tomorrow Voldemort had promised to spend time with him.  If there was one person he could trust to cling to, it was his bond-mate.  It wasn't that he knew his bond-mate was a good person, he was almost entirely sure that Voldemort wasn't.  But that didn't mean that his bond-mate wasn't a good person to him.  So far, he'd shown nothing but consideration.  Nothing but consideration.  

What more could he ask for?  Not much more, he thought passively as he rested his head back down next to Voldemort's side.  His bond-mate was being infinitely patient with him, even if it was obvious that he wanted to do other activities with him.  He considered himself lucky that Voldemort was willing to wait until he was ready.  He wasn't ready to take the next step.  Not yet.  

He pressed a feather light kiss against Voldemort's neck.  He didn't mean for the delicate movement to disturb his bond-mate, but he should have guessed that Voldemort was a light sleeper.  "What is it, pet?"  

"I didn't mean to disturb you," Harry murmured softly, placing his arms around Voldemort's waist in a trusting gesture.  "I couldn't sleep."  

His bond-mate's arms tightened around him.  "You should have informed me," Voldemort remarked sharply, his crimson eyes quite visible despite the darkness in the room.  "You know that I can have Severus make you a sleeping potion if you are having trouble sleeping."  

"It's fine," Harry responded.  "It's not like anything I do is strenuous."

"You still need your sleep, Harry," Voldemort chided, but the edge in his voice was gone.  

Harry smiled sweetly and kissed the corner of Voldemort's mouth.  "I know, you worry about me too much."  

"Go to sleep," Voldemort commanded.  "You need your rest.  I don't want you yawning through my spell creation session or I won't allow you to come to another one.  I don't need any unnecessary distractions."  

For a moment, he regretted the harshness of his words when he saw Harry's face fill with anxiety at having his privileged revoked.  But the cruel part in him wondered why he even cared?  It wasn't like Harry meant anything to him other than a source of magical energy in which he could use whenever he needed it.  It wasn't like Harry was important to him as a person.  

Yet, there was the growing nagging suspicion that Harry did mean something to him.  That worried him, somewhat.  What worried him more was if the others knew that.  It could be seen as a weakness to be used against him.  He frowned and tightened his hold on his pet.  Weaknesses were what worried him more than anything.  It'd be too ironic if his greatest strength was his greatest weakness.  

He felt Harry's fingers trying to smooth out the wrinkles that creased his forehead.  "You shouldn't frown," Harry whispered.  "It makes you look like what you looked like before."  

That particular reminder was more than enough to cause him to stop frowning.  Voldemort knew he was vain, but why not be vain when he was as good looking as he knew that he was?  He almost regretted the fact that he hadn't been able to keep his green eyes, but that had been a necessary sacrifice to attain the control he wielded over the dark arts.  It had been well worth the additional powers he'd gained.

"Go to sleep, my pet.  Tomorrow's a long day."  

It took Harry a while, but eventually he fell back to sleep.   It wasn't until he was positive that the rhythmic breathing from Harry came from sleep and not from Harry trying to fool him did he allow himself to relax.  Once he relaxed, he let Harry's soft breathing lull him to sleep.  And as he was falling to sleep, the part of him that only wanted to be loved taunted him that Harry meant something to him--- as a person.  

~

Normally he would be having a session with Lucius, but today was different.  Today he was going to get to spend time with his bond-mate!  Harry's enthusiasm throughout the morning had been climbing, especially when Voldemort had told him that they would begin after lunch.  But the closer it got, the more apprehensive he got.  He didn't want to disappoint Voldemort, and he was a bit afraid that the volatile side that he knew was in his bond-mate would explode if he didn't meet up to expectations.  

"I've arranged for you to start you relearning potions with Severus in a special laboratory I've prepared for you in the dungeons," Voldemort informed him as he sat down across from Harry at the elegantly prepared table.  "You will meet Severus in the mornings, and continue with your sessions with Lucius in the afternoons.  Bellatrix will foresee your lessons with Severus though."  

"Will she for Lucius?" Harry asked softly.  

"Do you want her to?" Voldemort countered instead.  

Harry shook his head.  She made him uncomfortable, the less he had to be around her the more comfortable he would be.  "No, I would prefer not to be around her.  The way she looks at me, it looks like she would rather I be dead than alive," he admitted to Voldemort honestly.  "She tries to hide it in her mannerisms, but her eyes betray her."  

"Then she will not be there," Voldemort replied reassuringly.  But inwardly he recoiled at this keen observation from Harry.  He had seen the venom in Bella's eyes, but he hadn't suspected that his pet had.  That was a mild cause for concern.  He'd have to be more careful about not having anyone slip up and reveal anything to Harry.  He couldn't have Harry not trusting him, could he?  Not when it'd be so much easier if Harry trusted him.  

Smiling, Harry dug into the meal that was magically enchanted before him.  It was all his favorites, well at least, he thought they were his favorites.  His taste buds seemed to enjoy the flavors, even though he couldn't remember if they were his favorites or not.  If he thought too much on this, he'd depress himself again with what he couldn't remember.  It was better not to think too hard regarding anything about his past.  

What did the past matter anyway?  The future was what was important.  But his being was wrapped in the past.  He didn't have an identity without his past, even if he tried to tell himself it didn't matter--- it did.  He didn't want to think about it, not now, at least not when he was awake and had something to look forward to today.  He was actually spending time with his bond-mate when they weren't cooped up in the bedroom.  

It'd be a nice atmospheric change.  "I'm done," Harry declared, placing his eating utensils neatly on the plate and watching it disappear in much the same way it had appeared.  "Ready?"  

"Anxious, my pet?"  

"A little."  

"You should _always_ tell me the truth, Harry."   

He almost disliked how well his bond-mate knew him.  There was no hiding anything from him.  "Yes, I'm anxious," Harry grumbled.  "And I wasn't lying to you."

"You weren't telling me the full truth though," Voldemort admonished, his hand reaching across the table to cup Harry's chin and lifting it up so those emerald eyes could meet his dead on.  "And I want the full truth from you, my pet.  Especially from you.  I will not tolerate anything less."  

Harry had no choice but to look into the severity that made those crimson eyes all that much more harsher.  Reluctantly, he nodded that he understood.  What other option did he have?  None, he had no say in anything unless Voldemort gave him the choice.  And he knew that his bond-mate liked absolute power and control.  

Once Voldemort was sure that his pet understood, he relaxed his hold on Harry's chin and let his fingers caress Harry's cheeks gently.  "That's a good pet," Voldemort remarked condescendingly.  "Follow me, and don't be slow.  I hate wasting time."  

Obediently, Harry followed Voldemort behind him.  His anticipation continued to build until they reached the room at the far end of the hallway.  The portrait that guarded the doorway was a portrait of Voldemort himself, a regal Voldemort at the height of his powers.  The older Voldemort stared down at the younger looking though much older Voldemort and smiled.  

"Good afternoon," the portrait Voldemort greeted.  

"Good afternoon, I trust you will let my pet in?"

The portrait Voldemort's eyes shifted to where Harry was standing behind his bond-mate and studied the young man appreciatively.  "You have chosen yourself a very pleasing pet.  I commend you."  

Voldemort chuckled darkly.  "Was there any doubt in our taste?"  

The portrait Voldemort arched his eyebrow up, but said nothing more before letting the door swing open to Voldemort's private studio.  He trusted no portrait but himself to guard the secrets within this room zealously.  No one other than himself had ever stepped into it, not until Harry that was.  

A part of himself found it ironic that his greatest enemy was now his greatest ally, and that Harry Potter was the one that would have the honor of stepping into this particular room.  But no matter, Harry was loyal to him, and from all that he did know--- the only one Harry depended on and relied on and trusted was himself.  To impart a little of his own trust on the young innocent would only entrench those feelings further.  

He coveted having Harry depend entirely on him and only him.  No one else.  No one.  

"I have been working on this spell that involves being able to hear the inner workings of a person's mind without actually having to cast a spell vocally in their presence, which defeats the purpose of such a spell," Voldemort began.  "It only works when their mind is unguarded, and as long as they don't know that you know what they're consciousness is saying to them--- they will continue on unaware that you are listening in.

"If you are not a legilimens, this spell proves most useful.  Very few people are legilimens, and though my followers in general believe that I am one--- I am not," he confessed.  "But I have allowed them to think that since it has made them truthful to the most to me, with the exception of Severus who contributed it to his own skills at Occlumency rather than any displease I was not exactly what I said I was.  Foolish Slytherin, his attachment to the Gryffindor Dumbledore has lowered his awareness.  A pity for himself, a boon for myself.

"Most of the spell has been satisfactorily worked out," he continued.  "But I still need your help in working out the rest of it.  To a degree this spell will not work unless I have the power to cast it before I try to read someone's mind, and the power it requires is like that of a Forbidden spell.  Do you understand, pet, what I require of you?"  

"My power?"

"Yes," Voldemort affirmed, "I need your power.  I do not need to drain you entirely, only a little, enough to boost me.  I also need to let your mind think as it normally would after I cast the spell.  I will need to test it on you."  

Harry nodded and went over to his bond-mate and offered what his bond-mate could have easily taken without asking him.  Voldemort smiled inside at the way his pet was giving himself, he much preferred that to having to force it out of Harry.  When Harry was close enough, he took his pet into his arms and pressed his lips on the scar.  

From that scar, he drew power from the young man in an intoxicating wave that he almost didn't want to pull out of the embrace.  But he knew he had to, unless he wanted Harry to end up in a coma like he had last time.  Once he felt he had drawn enough power, he released Harry and let his pet stumble out of his hold.  His weakened Harry could scarcely stand up, despite he took only what he needed.  

Voldemort felt the additional power throbbing through his veins.  He had more than enough to cast the spell, which he did so quickly underneath his breath.  Unlike a good majority of spells, this one required a full incantation.  He rapidly spoke the necessary Latin phrases, and when he was done turned his attention to where Harry was lying in an exhausted heap.  

"How do you feel, my pet?"  

"I am all right," came Harry's weary reply.  _I do not think I can get up.  I am exhausted.  _

"Do not lie to me, Harry," Voldemort remarked with amused instead of the anger earlier.  "You are tired and weary.  You cannot even rise to your feet by yourself."  

_He is reading my mind, _Harry thought.  _The spell worked.  _

"Yes, it worked," Voldemort confirmed.  "It worked quite better than I expected."  

_I am glad.  _

"I am glad too."  

~

Outside of the Voldemort's private studio, Bellatrix was pacing aggressively.  She couldn't believe that her Master had allowed that awful Harry Potter into his sanctuary when he had never allowed her!  She couldn't believe that he'd give the honor to his greatest enemy and deny the very same privilege to her, his most loyal Death Eater!

"My, my," Lucius drawled, draping his elegant body on a marbled pillar, "you do look quite peeved, Bellatrix.  Has our Master shown his displeasure in your blatant inability to control the poison spitting from your eyes?"  

"I would not be so sure of yourself if I were you, Lucius," Bellatrix spat.  "My Master knows of your cunning ways.  He would be foolish to rest his trust in you ever again, lest you turn into another Igor Karkaroff."  

Lucius chuckled lightly, not at all perturbed by what Bellatrix was staying.  "But Igor's idiocy is his own and neither mine nor yours, as much as you wish it on me.  You have pointed out my cunning ways, and it was in my cunning that I bided my time and made it possible to serve my Lord in the best way--- outside of Azkaban.  Your excessive loyalty cost us your strength in our side, Bellatrix.  And you wasted away with the Dementers in such a way, it has affected your mind."  

"It has affected nothing!" she shouted at him, her dark eyes filled with the rage of a terrible storm.  "I am still the same Bellatrix that I have always been!  You on the other hand, have weakened serving in the ministry, saving your own skin!  A weakling in the Malfoy family, I never thought I'd see the day.  If only your father could have seen you now, Lucius, how disappointed he would be."  

Damn Bellatrix, she always did know exactly the right way to push the wrong buttons.  His father was a sore topic with him.  He had never quite lived up to the Malfoy name, according to his father, then again how could he when his father was better than him at everything?  And no matter what he'd done, it was never enough for that sadistic bastard!  Never!  

And he knew quite well that his father would have preferred him to marry Bellatrix Black rather than her younger more amiable sister, Narcissa.  But he had had his way and had chosen Narcissa, and thank goodness he had.  Stuck with Bellatrix as his spouse would have driven him madder than even being in the constant company of Dementers.  

Despite all her faults, Narcissa had provided him with the one thing that he was proud of--- his beautiful son, Draco.  "I do not think he would be disappointed in me," Lucius sneered, all the arrogance that was Malfoy behind him.  "I think he would be proud to know that I have the trust of the Dark Lord in my favor, and that our Lord trusts me to instruct his bond-mate without supervision."  

"What?!" Bellatrix cried out, astonished.  She had not been informed of this!  Lucius must be lying.  "You must be lying!  You know how _he _despises falsehoods!"  

"No falsehood," Lucius responded with sickening sweetness.  "He told me that you would watch over Harry when he was in his session with Severus, but that your services would not be required when he is brought for his instruction from me.  He may trust you to supervise Harry in the presence of Severus, but it is a pity he doesn't trust you enough to instruct his bond-mate himself.  He would prefer a traitor teach Harry than yourself."  

He turned his face away from the rage that was running rampant over Bellatrix's over expressive face.  Toying with her, he indeed enjoyed.  It was far too easy now.  It was true that Azkaban had weakened her.  What adaptation she had had before was totally gone now.  Much to his benefit, the Bellatrix of before would have been a formidable opponent.  As fun as a challenge would have been, it was best to be uncontested in the Dark Lord's favor.  

Licking his lips delicately, with Bellatrix suitably indisposed in her anger he might as well pay Severus a visit in the dungeons.  Torturing Bellatrix with Severus had been enjoyable, but torturing Severus with Bellatrix--- now that was true pleasure.  

~

**Author's Note:** Yes, my muse came back briefly to write 3 chapters.  Well, will write 3 chapters if I get nice reviews that makes my muse happy.  I already have another chapter waiting to be released.  So click the little box and you'll get it soon, all right?  

Thanks to chriswiz, Eaiva le Fay (Voldemort thinks Lucius wouldn't dare touch what's his), redredredred (changed the "my lover bit" I had a plot inconsistency), minnamo, Hanakai (thanks, there is Sev/Harry interaction planned), Hyperbole, Yueh Kitsune, Goldengirl2, Lexxie, Leah, Yxonomei, Malakai (I try not to go for clichés), Tempest8 (or a vivid imagination), sdmilkyway, abraxis (I explained it somewhat, it was a plot inconsistency I had to fix.  There are small changes in the chapter that had the problem.  Well LV doesn't think that Lucius would dare to do anything, while Sev as a traitor would.)  


	9. Brewing

Title: **In the Absence of Memory**

Author: Yih

Disclaimer: All characters are JK Rowling.

Beta: The _magnificent_ Serra. 

~

9: Brewing (October 14, 2003 to October 16, 2003)

He tapped his finger against the cold stone wall.  It was deliberate.  He liked the steady beat it made, especially since it only served to make the dark glower in Severus' eyes all that much more darker.  Truly, Lucius delighted in annoying the bloody hell out of Severus.  Actually, Bellatrix was more interesting to irritate, but Severus came a close second.  A very close second.  

"I am here to inform you," Lucius began with the pomp of circumstance, "that the Dark Lord wants you to tutor Harry Potter in the arts of potion-making.  It also brings me the most pleasure to tell you additionally that you will be supervised by Bellatrix."  

Severus narrowed his eyes, but he knew better than to say anything especially when his gut told him that Lucius wasn't done gloating.  "I know that this must be the thrill of the decade," Lucius continued, "to be watched by that poisoned witch while you do what you enjoy most?  Brewing potions.  But I think even her presence will not erase the joy you'll get from being with Harry, will it?"  

He didn't say anything.  That tried Lucius' patience.  This time he'd asked Severus a direct question and had been blatantly ignored.  He did not like that.  "You will answer me," Lucius demanded harshly, his hand moving toward the spot he knew that was most vulnerable.  This time he gave no warning, his hand closed over Severus' flaccid penis cruelly.  "I require an answer, Severus."  

It wouldn't be long before he gave in.  Not with the torture that Lucius was inflicting on that susceptible flesh.  The only question was how long Severus was going to be stubborn and try to suffer through the agony?  Not long was the answer when Severus gasped, "Yes."  

"Yes what?" Lucius queried deliberately, tightening his grip instead of releasing it.  

"Yes, I will enjoy it."  

Lucius grinned vindictively, loosening his torturous grip on Severus' cock.  "Now, was that so difficult, Severus?"  

It was, but Severus had enough control not to vocalize that.  It would only lead to more trouble and more torture.  Lucius was more than willing to dole it out to him, should he show the least bit rebellion.  As it was, he was making up ways to inflict torture on him plausibly.  Why even need a reason?  That was Severus' bitter thought.  It wasn't like anyone cared.  

"I am sure you will find Bellatrix's presence unbearable, am I right?"  

Severus nodded stiffly.  Better to agree than disagree and face whatever other pain that Lucius would enjoy giving him.  It wasn't like he had much to disagree with that particular query.  Even when Bellatrix had been sane, he had disliked the witch.  Now that she was more insane than sane, he found even more of a reason to despise her to pieces.  

Severus stiffened when he felt Lucius' hand caress his cheek.  He was well aware of the treachery even in a seemingly gentle touch.  Lucius only smiled when he saw the way that Severus responded negatively to his touch.  Ever the cautious one, wasn't he?  Lucius didn't mind.  He did enjoy playing with Severus mind.  Cruelty there.  Gentleness here.  

"I hope you take pleasure in tomorrow," Lucius whispered throatily.  "After all, you don't know when you'll be able to see Harry again.  Our Lord might just decide that he does not need Harry to learn the art of potion making, considering how finicky the subject is.  One needs skill," he remarked, one of his hands reaching down to trace Severus' long fingers, "and I daresay everyone knows what you think of Harry's potion making skills."  

"He is not the worst," Severus choked out.  

"No," Lucius agreed, "he is not the worst, but neither is he the best."  

~

Harry was excited.  All Voldemort could do was smile indulgently.  Such innocent joy, he observed, wondering if he had ever been like that.  He didn't think so, but it had been many years since he'd been as young as Harry.  And yet, even when he had been Harry's age, he'd never had this thirst for life--- for power and influence, yes, but never just for life itself.  

"Don't forget your wand," he reminded Harry leniently.  "Even if potions is more of an art of the hands, the wand is still used sometimes."  

"I know," Harry muttered, reaching into the drawer next to their bed.  He grabbed the wand, and with a radiant smile still on his face leaned over to kiss Voldemort on the cheek.  "Will I see you for lunch?"  

"You will," Voldemort confirmed, his hand moving to cup Harry's chin and tilt it upward so that he might possess those innocent lips in a kiss meant to dominate his bond-mate.  Desire flared up in his groin as Harry melted into his kiss.  There was nothing that Voldemort liked better than knowing that he had someone completely at his mercy.  "Now, go," he commanded, breaking the kiss.  "Severus does not appreciate tardiness."  

It took Harry a moment to get his bearings again, another thing that was immensely pleasing to Voldemort.  That only gave him adamant proof of how he affected his bond-mate, and he did want to affect him.  When Harry was once again aware of his surroundings, he blushed a most charming pink before scurrying off toward the potions laboratory that Voldemort had set up specifically for Harry's tutorials.  

When Harry had disappeared out of the room, Voldemort swept out of his private rooms to his studio at the opposite side of the mansion.  He had things to do, especially since the magical boost that Harry had given him the other day was still there.  There were several other spells he wanted to try out, and they were not the type that Harry would appreciate witnessing.  

Taking in account of his bond-mate's gentleness, he was being considerate enough not to force Harry to watch him try out new torture curses.  There was one especially that he like since when cast on a wand mimicked the pain of a knife when the wand touched any part of the wizard's body.  To test this new curse out, he called for Lucius to bring him one of the wizards that had been captured during the latest Death Eater raid.  

~

Did he knock on the door?  Harry's hand hovered over the large wooden door, still undecided about whether to knock on it or not when it flew open.  His body stiffened instantly when he heard a commanding voice address him, "Mr. Potter, your tardiness leaves much to be desired.  Now, will you please come into the room and shut the door behind you?"  

Before Harry could do what Severus told him to do, he was stopped by a cold hand grabbing onto his shoulder.  "He will do nothing you say unless he wishes it," Bellatrix declared in a chilling manner.  "You understand, Harry, that you are the Master here and not him."  

Harry nodded slowly, anything to get her hand off of his person.  There was something about Bellatrix that was intensely unnerving.  Even now, when she seemed almost sane.  The keyword was almost.  While her voice was amazingly in control, her eyes were wild and hinted at the madness that was barely leashed.  And despite this all, she still had presence.  He could only imagine what she was like before her unfortunate stay at Azkaban.  

"Don't try anything out of hand, Snape," Bellatrix warned harshly as she swept into the room like she owned the place.  "Don't think I won't report the most minute detail to my Lord.  You know that I hate to trouble him, but you know of how important young Harry is to him."  

"I am well aware," Severus responded brusquely, his dark eyes unyielding to her attempt to dominate him.  He wasn't scared of Bellatrix; he never had been.  That must have infuriated her, even when she was at the height of her mental capacity.  And it didn't make matters easier, that he'd always favored Lucius' argument over hers either in the past.  What could he do?  Lucius was the one that had been fucking him so pleasurably, even if he sometimes agreed with her more.  

"Good," she replied.  "That's very good."  Bellatrix turned her head toward where Harry was still standing outside of the laboratory.  "Are you going to come in and start your lessons with Snape, or not?"  

Harry quickly scurried into the room.  Making a wide arc around where Bellatrix stood, he approached Severus without the wariness that he showed her.  Instead, he went straight up to Severus and held out his hand.  "I'm Harry Potter.  It's nice to meet you," he greeted amicably.  "I've heard much about you, and I hope that I learn a lot from you."  

He hoped that was a suitable way to greet a person that had such a severe expression on his face.  Unlike Lucius, who almost always had a congenial expression on his face except when he was dealing with Bellatrix, Severus looked almost angry.  Harry hoped it wasn't because of him.  Then again, he had been late and it might agitate Severus more than it did Lucius.  

He really must remember to get here on time next time, if not earlier.  Lucius had patiently explained to him that there were certain people that minded tardiness, and that Voldemort was one of them.  Harry's lips curved up in amusement.  He could have told Lucius that.  He knew everything about his bond-mate.  He wasn't sure if it was because of their bond, or that this was the reason that they were bonded.  

He just knew Voldemort as instinctively as he couldn't remember his past.  

"I hope that you learn as well," Severus replied frankly, "but potion making is an art that few are talented at.  It takes a steady hand, a quick mind, and a gut feeling that most wizards lack.  I wouldn't be surprise if you lack it as well."  Especially since, he thought, Harry had never performed well under his instruction before.  "But nevertheless, I am here to teach you."  

"I am here to learn," Harry stated with soft intensity.  "What you are willing to teach me, Professor."  

There was something different about this Harry that hadn't been in his Harry, Severus reflected as his dark eye studied the green eyed young man critically.  A solemnity that the Harry he'd known had never had, and he didn't quite know if he liked it.  The Harry that he was used to had been fiery and passionate, full of life, and this Harry was muted and subdued.  

"First," Severus began, grabbing two sharp cutting knives, "we must teach you the proper way in which to slice, chop, and dice your ingredients.  Everything must be done in an exact and precise manner.  There is no almost in potion making.  What is said must be done."  He handed the knife to Harry.  "I want you to slice the bitterroot carefully.  The slices must be thin but substantial."  

"Thin but substantial?" Harry queried.  

Severus nodded.  "Watch me," he directed.  He took a large bitterroot and started slowly slicing it, taking his time so that Harry might actually take in what he was trying to teach.  "You want it thin enough to have maximum surface area to react with the other ingredients, but you don't want it flimsy enough to break when you mix it.  It's a careful balance between width and size."  

"I understand," Harry responded, taking a piece of bitterroot and starting to slice it carefully.  

When he was finished slicing his bitterroot, it gave Severus the perfect opportunity to watch Harry without seeming like he was studying him for no reason.  "That's good, but you don't have to be that careful," he commented, mentally complimenting Harry for actually taking the time to properly prepare the ingredients.  Maybe the boy wouldn't be so bad at potions if he wasn't always hurrying to finish up his potions.  

"I'm done," Harry declared, smiling.  "What's next?"  

"We need to dice a cow's tongue," Severus answered, taking two tongues out.  "Then we'll need to chop some serpent's tail.  Not all these ingredients are necessary for the potion we will be creating, but it is imperative that you know all the methods in which to cut ingredients up."  

Harry nodded.  That made perfect sense.  

"I'm sure," Severus continued onward, "that you're curious about what potion we'll be making?"  Harry nodded.  He was quite curious.  "We will be making a numbing potion.  It's the easiest pain relieving potion to be made and with your past history of accidents, I think it a boon if you knew how to make it."  

So Severus knew about his past?  Harry's eyes widened with interest at the dominating Potions Master.  One day, he started plotting, he needed to get Bellatrix out of the room so that he might question Severus about his past.  If there was anyone that'd be willing to tell him--- it would be Severus.  

~

"So how did the session with Severus go?" Lucius asked politely as he closed the door after Harry.  "And how was your lunch with the Dark Lord?"  

"It went very well, both of them," Harry responded easily, sitting down with a relaxed expression on his face.  For some reason, Lucius made him feel at ease that he didn't feel around anyone else.  He didn't feel the contempt and aggression that was behind Bellatrix's looks, and Severus' studious and contemplative stares unnerved him a bit.  "So what are you going to teach me today, Lucius?"  

"What would you like to learn?" Lucius countered.  

Harry shrugged.  "Anything you teach is bound to be interesting."  

Lucius chuckled.  "I suspect," he responded wryly, "that anything is interesting after being stuck doing nothing all day long.  But it was necessary for your recovery to be coddled.  You nearly died, Harry."  

"I didn't nearly die," Harry replied with a tinge of bitterness.  "I died.  I have no idea who I am anymore.  The only thing I know is Voldemort.  I know him as well as I don't know myself."  

Good, things were playing into his plans perfectly.  He did like how easily it had been to worm his way into Harry's trust.  Not that Harry had many choices, Lucius thought with an inner smirk, he only had gotten to acquaint himself with Bellatrix and himself.  And that really wasn't much of a choice.  It figures that Harry would start to rely on him, and he couldn't very well complain about his bond-mate to him, could he?  

Especially if Harry as he'd just confessed, knew the Dark Lord that well.  He would know Voldemort didn't take too well to criticism.  "That may be true," Lucius responded sympathetically, "but you are still alive, and you may still be able to regain your memories."  He personally thought it was a hopeless case.  There was no possible way to reverse a curse of that magnitude.  But it didn't hurt to appear supportive in Harry's crisis.  

"Do you really think so?" Harry asked with hopefulness.  "I really would like to be able to remember who I really am."  

"You may," Lucius answered.  "But I don't really think that who you are now is much different than who you use to be.  I think this might really be the real you instead of the you who you were before."  

"Why do you say that?" Harry questioned.  "Did you know me before?"  

"I didn't know you, but I did observe you on occasion.  You were a boy that had to live in a man's role.  You weren't ready, but you were thrust into the position whether you liked it or not."  Lucius smiled sadly and reached over to caress Harry's cheek.  "I think you were living under a façade, and you had to because of the burden of responsibility that everyone placed on your shoulders.

"But here, you are free from all that.  You may act a bit childish," he freely admitted, "but it is not unexpected when you've been acting mature beyond your years before.  And is it so bad to be an innocent?  Living in ignorance often is a more pleasurable existence than to be wise of all things."  

"How would I know if I don't know who I was?" Harry queried softly, not knowing whether to really believe Lucius' words or not.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" Lucius asked, his fingers stroking the underside of Harry's chin.  

Harry paused.  He knew he trusted Voldemort, only because he knew his bond-mate so well that it'd be impossible for Voldemort to lie to him, not that he told him the full truth.  He knew that Voldemort didn't tell him everything, and it was probably best that he didn't.  He didn't want to know everything that his bond-mate did because he knew what Voldemort was like.

The question was: did he trust Lucius?  

It was a hard question to answer.  It wasn't easy.  Nothing ever was, the pessimistic part of his mind taunted, not when he didn't know anything about anything.  Yet, if there was one person to show him kindness and understanding, it was Lucius.  He couldn't help but rely on the older wizard.  He was teacher, mentor, and guide.  "Yes," he answered throatily.  "I trust you."  

"That's good," Lucius remarked.  "That's very good."  He removed his hand from where it was caressing Harry's neck and reached over to grab a book on a nearby shelf.  "You do realize that trust between teacher and student is most important, and I'm glad that you've placed your trust in me, Harry.  There is much I have to teach you, and it would be easier if you did trust me."

Harry nodded.  That made sense.  

Lucius grinned.  "I've opened the book to a spell that I wish you to read the background theory on.  I'm sure you're vaguely familiar with it, but the books you have been reading probably didn't go very much in depth.  It's not every wizard that learns this, and it's not considered imperative.  But I consider it quite important."  

He passed the book to Harry, and Harry lowered his eyes and read the title with interest: _How to cast an Unforgivable, Theories and Revelations and Strategies.  _

~

**Author's Note:** My muse will probably be on vacation for a while.  I thought I'd be able to write another chapter, but right now I think I might be taking a break for all fanfics except MOP.  MOP may go absent for a bit too as I try to recover from this writing downtime.  Hopefully, I'll be back and better than ever.  It's not that I've stopped writing, I just can't write for HP right now.  As always, reviews feed my muse.  Thanks!

Thanks to: none, Nicole, chriswiz (about Lucius, nice idea, I haven't been thinking ahead for this fanfic), HPFAN4LIFE, Yxonomei, Savage Damsel (sorry, muse went bye bye), Tempest8, abraxis, Carolla (sorry about the lack of visuals), Karaberos, KATHY STGQVK, Snape-Slytherinking, Artemisu (the scenario could happen, imagine V's wrath, scary!), ntamara (your fanfic's very good –cheers- right more), VirginSuicide, Dracolover411, Eaiva le Fay (dangerous indeed), Dir en Grey, The Shadow Bandit (dunno how I do it, but I'm dead tired now).  


	10. Claiming

Title: **In the Absence of Memory**

Author: Yih

Disclaimer: All characters are JK Rowling.

Beta: The _magnificent_ Serra. 

~

10: Claiming (October 29, 2003 to November 1, 2003)

It was time to take the next step.  It was time for him to not only have Harry in the spiritual sense, but also the physical sense.  The idea had never been distasteful to him, even when he'd first read it--- but to his great surprise, the idea had grown to be much more pleasing as time went by.  How was he to know that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and made his life hell, would turn out to be such a gorgeous young man?  

He didn't.  But he was glad that Harry had.  It made the idea of physically claiming him that much easier.  Actually, there wasn't anyone else that he wanted to fuck than Harry.  It was more than the youthful perfection of Harry's body; it was the naïve innocence that really made his lust spread like wildfire throughout his soul.  He relished that he'd be the first one to ever taste Harry.  It would be him.  

And Harry would always belong to him.  

Harry was his.  Taking his virginity would only reinforce his ownership of Harry's body, his heart, and his soul.  Everything that was Harry was his.  Besides, the Forbidden spell had also specifically said that the bond between them would only strength the more intimate they were.  Mutual pleasure would increase it more than force, but any physical gratification would work.  

He intended to derive great pleasure from Harry, but he'd make sure Harry also got something out of it.  Force and domination was nice on occasion, but to make someone scream with pleasure was even more satisfying.  He liked to have people under his mercy, and no one was ever more under it than when they were pleading for release.  

That settled it.  He'd given Harry enough time to adjust, and if he wasn't mistaken--- Harry craved his affectionate touches.  It wouldn't be hard to get Harry to do more.  If Harry was eager for it, that was even better.  He grinned as he began to think of ways in which to entice Harry into such a maelstrom of sexual arousal without letting Harry go over the edge.  

There were many things he could think of that would test the very reserves of Harry's control.  He didn't think it would take more than a few minutes before Harry was begging for his touch.  If he could get a hardened heart like Severus Snape to beg on his knees to be taken like the slut he was, he was sure he could easily bring Harry down to his knees as well.  

While there were things for him to show Harry, there were things that Harry also needed to learn.  He was going to have a pleasurable time teaching him that.  His grin only widened at the thought.  Just thinking about having Harry's mouth sucking on his cock made him harden.  It'd been so long since he'd been able to relieve himself sexually, but he was never one to lack self control.  

No, even if it had been years--- he didn't doubt his ability to perform.  But it wouldn't hurt to get the edge off of him before Harry came back from his latest session with Lucius.  That way, he'd have all the patience in which to woo Harry into his bed as willing as any wild wanton.  And if his suspicions were correct, Harry was going to be a very passionate lover.  Just the way he liked them.  

~

Usually there was never any noise coming from the room, but tonight there was.  At first, he didn't know what they were.  But when he got closer, he heard the distinct sound of a low moaning and harsh breathing.  Hesitantly, he pressed his ear to the door and felt a sharp sensation shoot toward his cock when he recognized the voice.  It was Voldemort.  

Was his bond-mate doing what he thought he was doing?  Would Voldemort finally touch him, like Harry craved for him to touch him?  He'd been trying to give him all the signals, but Voldemort had brushed them aside.  Was he undesirable?  He didn't think so, not when Harry had caught Voldemort staring at him intensely with those blood red eyes.  Why else would he stare?  

He knew Voldemort wanted him, but why didn't he take him then?  That he didn't understand, when he knew that his bond-mate always took what he wanted.  So what was he waiting for?  For him to recover from whatever had robbed him of his memories?  That was considerate of him, far too considerate, when he knew that Voldemort went out of his way not to be thought of as someone not to be crossed.  

Did he dare enter?  He was reasonably sure that he knew what Voldemort was doing inside, and he didn't think that his bond-mate would like him to disturb him.  But if there was one thing Harry did know about himself, it was that he was curious.  He wanted to know; he wanted to see.  He had felt everything about his bond-mate, but he'd yet to see everything.  

He dared to enter.  He didn't even make an attempt to disguise his entrance.  He did nothing differently than he normally did.  He was certain that Voldemort heard him, but his bond-mate was too far gone to be able to stop stroking his large and dripping cock.  The sight was magnificent, even though he could compare it to none but his own.  

[2,000 words missing due to NC-17 rating.  It'll be available on the HxTlightening mailing list or my MOP mailing list.]

~

**Author's Note:** I've finished my 3 chapter run for AOM.  I won't return until Christmas at the earliest.  Besides, we've gotten to the good part so I don't anyone has anything to complain about.  Read review and maybe I'll have a couple chapters for you for a Christmas present!  Who knows?  I don't.  I didn't even think I'd continue this, but I did ;p.  

Thanks to Birgit Riddle, kizna2, HoshiHikarin4ever, Eaiva le Fay (not liking Lucius is a good thing, that means he's in character doesn't it?), mimo-chan, Lillian-and-Lime, Yxonomei, a true elsewhere, abraxis.  


End file.
